White Butler
by wakawaka22
Summary: The Phantomhives welcome George into their 'family'. Well, most of them. A certain black butler isn't too happy with the intrusion.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey. Please read this doujin first before reading this fic: **http:/angelskully(dot)deviantart(dot)com(slash)art(slash)Kuroshitsuji - Dark- Valentine- 197327643 **Delete the spaces and stuff. The comic is kind of like the prologue, and it isn't mine. Thanks, enjoy. SebXCiel.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Kuroshitsuji nor the doujin.**

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><p><span>White Butler <span>

Sebastian entered his master's bedroom, feet soft upon the plush carpeting. He had been conducting these nightly visits for the past week or so, ever since the recent Valentine's. His face curled into a grim smile as he recalled that day's events.

-Flashback-

_Sebastian tidied up the messy corridor. After their 'favours', the irritating shinigami and the creepy Undertaker had demanded a reward of sorts, and… well, let's just say things get pretty crazy when you put two unpredictable mentally unstable people in the same room. Add a couple bottles of the finest whisky and you got yourself a ticking time bomb. Or, in this case, several. Sebastian paused in his painting of the chipped wall, and used one of his gloved hands to take out his trusty pocket watch._

_He sighed. It was already two in the morning. He had to hurry; the rest of the house was already asleep. Young Master would not be happy if he found out his demon servant had been wandering the halls late at night, and telling him the truth would be unthinkable._

_~O~_

_Carefully placing the paint can and brush back in the storeroom, Sebastian rose from his previously kneeling position, stepping out of the dusty room. He'd have to clean this place tomorrow – no way could he trust Mey Rin with such a task; she'd probably spill all the paint and manage to break the all old paintings._

_At the thought of old paintings, Sebastian glanced briefly at the painting that had been ordered to be kept out of sight, the once-beautiful painting of the proud Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive. Shaking his head, Sebastian left the room, making his way through the plain back corridors meant for the servants._

_Entering the tastefully decorated corridors of the main house, Sebastian made his way to his bedroom, prepared for his nightly rest. Due to the rather unusual relationship between the Earl and him, his room was situated in a corner only accessible past the young master's room._

_Padding softly on shoes polished to perfection, Sebastian walked past his master's room, ready to call it a day when light sniffles alerted him to something out of the ordinary. Curiousity peaked, Sebastian gently pried open the door, peeking in to check all was well. Everything seemed in order; master sleeping in his bed, no smell of intruders, no – _

_"Mum… Dad… P-please…."_

_One perfect eyebrow arched, Sebastian slowly entered the room. It was his young master's voice. Whatever was happening? Some kind of poison, maybe? In all his years serving the earl, never had the young boy ever had a nightmare; not the night after his terrible ordeal, not when he was nearly violated by the sickest of men, not when his demon butler had decapitated a man in front of his 11 year old eyes…_

_Creeping closer, Sebastian peered upon his master's face; always so reclusive, yet so vulnerable when asleep. To Sebastian, anyway. That was why he'd stare at the boy's face for a few moments before awakening him in the mornings and when the earl fell asleep in the midst of completing paperwork. _

_**That was the only reason.**_

_Lightly chastising himself for the turn his thoughts had taken, Sebastian refocused his red eyes once more upon the earl's peaceful sleeping face._

_His eyes widened barely perceptibly. The earl's face, unlike the innocent angel Sebastian was so accustomed to seeing, was instead scrunched in a half-snarl, half-whimper, eyes shifting restlessly beneath closed eyelids. Tiny pearl-like drops of tears caught in long eyelashes shimmered in the moon's ethereal glow, slightly damp hair plastered to his skull as cold sweat formed above his perfectly carved eyebrows._

_The demon's breath caught._

_Never, in all his centuries of life, had he seen such a beautifully deceptive picture, a painting of innocence and vulnerability covering the darkness inside. The deep indentation on closed eyelids gave the impression of wide, expressive eyes, the sparkling tears hanging upon feminine eyelashes a premonition of clutching desperately to a single, fine line of redemption. A well-sculpted face; high cheekbones with a strong jaw line rounded with youth, yet still giving one an aura of dignity and importance. The high, sharp nose of good breeding, the fine, silky smooth hair of the well-taken care of… _

_Truly a picture of utmost beauty._

_And Sebastian had the insane urge to pull apart those closed eyes to see if it truly was his master bathed in milky moonlight._

_Quelling the foreign urge, he calmly walked forward, getting a better view of his restless master. A glint of something reflective caught his eyes, and he knelt on the ground to in order to get a better view. His sharp eyes saw an intricately sculpted amulet, shield-shaped with gems and symbols adorning the sides. A large, precious ruby stole the limelight, placed precisely in the middle. Made of precious metals, gold being the majority, its chunky appearance looked out of place in the child's delicate white hands._

_His talisman._

_Or rather, Ciel's, since he'd technically given it to his lord. Why was his master clutching it in his hand, when he was asleep no less? When night time had arrived, everything had gone smoothly and as usual, with the exception of Ciel being more subdued than usual. He'd simply disregarded it as Ciel being his usual moody and broody self. Perhaps there was more to it than he'd thought._

_And it definitely didn't have anything to do with the fact that it was from Sebastian…_

_Wait. Something else had revealed itself when Ciel had shifted. _

_In his other hand, clutched tightly, was a picture of his family; his father, his mother, Madam Red, him and their dog Sebastian. How sweet._

_Ignoring the fact that he'd been named after such an unworthy creature – a chaser of cats, no less –, Sebastian scrutinized the picture closely, the tiny rectangular piece of paper than his regal master would hold so precious._

_A flawless picture of a flawless family._

_Throughout his inspection, the sleeping earl's whimpers had been growing in number and desperation, broken whispers and fearsome snarls mixing together in a monster's lullaby. A choked gasp pulled Sebastian out of his reverie, as a blind hand suddenly shot wildly out of under the covers, catching on thin air as it clenched fruitlessly._

_"Mum… Dad…_

_…Sebastian."_

_The butler unconsciously took a step back from the wandering hand, startled by the call of his name. He then shook his head at his own foolishness; of course the young master had been calling out to his dead dog, not his demon butler. He was living in the past, after all._

_Regardless, watching the small, weak hand flailing about in vain, __**uselessly**__… Sebastian found himself wrapping a spotless white gloved hand around the tiny appendage, clenching it in his own big one. He found himself whispering, voice as soft and gentle as a mother's all of a sudden…_

_"…I'm here, my lord."_

_And at long last, the young earl's whimpers gradually faded to nothing, and he slept peacefully on._

-Flashback End-

Back to the present, Sebastian let out a noiseless exhale, settling himself comfortably in a nearby chair. Technically, it was a chair only fit for the young master, but what the young earl didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Sebastian hadn't spoken of that night to the young master, nor the next night, and definitely none of the nights after. Just out of curiousity, Sebastian had entered his master's room again the next day, only to find to his displeasure that they were recurring nightmares. However, his presence seemed to soothe the young boy.

The first few times, he'd busied himself unnecessarily, cleaning already spotless furniture and rearranging things only to put them back in their original places. About the third night, he'd realized he was fooling no one but himself, and after a wry chuckle or two had simply sat down in the chair, quietly observing his master's sleeping habits.

His master's room was sparse and yet beautifully adorned with petty, expensive things. Devoid of personal belongings, there was nothing to identify the person inhabiting it, other than by the fact that there _wasn't_ anything there.

Sebastian frowned. That wasn't how humans were supposed to be. They were supposed to –

"Mom…"

Again that roving hand, swiping at the air as if clawing a faceless enemy. Sebastian was at his young master's side in a flash, possibly faster than lightning itself. The action surprised him, but now was not the time for such menial thoughts. Now was a time to act, to adhere to the contract and live up to his aesthetics. He was, after all, a demon butler to the core.

"My lord."

Again that sightless hand, searching for something nonexistent, and again the same two items clutches to his chest, as if they were the very essence of his being, his lifeline. And again the pearly white gloves of a certain butler, gleaming like a ray of hope as they wrapped and protected the smaller hand, providing a barrier of warmth against the cool night air.

"My lord… I'm here."

~O~

Ciel crossed and uncrossed his legs, shifting restlessly as his butler prepared the day's wear.

"Something wrong, Young Master?"

Sebastian asked, pulling out a dark brown suit top with matching pants. The shirt's white ruffles stood out against the black lining of the collar, checkered brown squares designed to compliment a slim figure. Simple dark brown shorts with straight, thick vertical lines, V-shaped patterns intertwining and blending together. Lastly, white boots with black and brown checkered laces with a matching bow on each boot, large unnecessary brown stitches sewed fashionably on the sides.

"No… Hmm… Nothing."

Unconvinced and more than a little wary of his young master's calculating eyes, Sebastian attempted to lighten the heavy atmosphere, hoping to ease the unusual tension with familiar routine. Striding forward, he gently placed the pressed clothes on the bed so as not to crease them, reaching gloved hands under the newspaper the young earl held in his hands as he purposefully undid the buttons on Ciel's nightgown.

He would admit it, if only to himself; he felt a little more than slightly perturbed.

His young master, instead of reading the newspaper like he did every day without fail, was staring at his kneeling butler, large eyes unwavering in their intense examination. To be under such scrutiny at such a close range, and not even bothering to hide it…

Had the young master discovered something?

Carefully keeping his face blank, Sebastian removed the silk nightie, the earl obediently putting away the newspaper in favour of lifting his arms. Chest bare, he still managed an imposing air as those horrible mismatched orbs stared down at his butler.

Gloveless hands – the earl had a thingy about gloves touching his bare body – traced the boy's waist as Sebastian adjusted the waistline of his undergarment, slanted from his night's movements. He took a white undershirt and put his young master's hands through them, finger tips lightly brushing the boy's chest as his hands pulled the shirt to meet in the middle, deftly doing up the buttons. Next, the bare hand reached for the shorts, lifting his master's lithe legs one by one as he put each leg through its respective pant hole.

Pulling up the shorts – the young master had aided him by getting off the bed a second time –, Sebastian's thumbs ran along the earl's skin, featherlike touches providing stability. Bringing his hands to meet in the middle, much as he'd done with the shirt, Sebastian hesitated for a short moment. Of course, he'd done this plenty of times, and yet it felt so different with the earl's piercing gaze constantly searching for his own maroon eyes, touching so private an area.

_Nonsense_, he scolded himself, and pulled up the zipper. He buttoned the top button, hands once more trailing down to pull the creases that had formed out of the pant legs. Extending a long arm under the earl's parted legs, he snatched the jacket off the bed, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious as he stood back up, wrapping his young master in the cotton jacket. Standing a full two feet taller than his master, the demon couldn't help but feel even more vulnerable being that far above the ground, as the earl's blank yet thoughtful gaze was tilted upwards towards him.

Clearing his throat unnecessarily – he almost winced when it didn't go unnoticed by the young master –, Sebastian righted the bow and ruffles, lightly patting down the jacket. Once the young master was seated once more, he grabbed the boots, sidling sideways for greater ease as he once more lifted the earl's delicately sculpted legs, silky smooth and elegant as it pointed down to be placed in the awaiting boot. He repeated the action twice, finally moving to rest in-between the earl's legs as he laced up the fancy footwear.

Looking up, he barely managed to restrain himself from uncharacteristically cringing when he realized his face's proximity to his master's groin. Voice deceivingly velvet smooth, he got up, preparing to leave the room.

"Well? Shall we, Young Master?"

Giving a nearly imperceptible nod, Ciel Phantomhive rose to his full height, stalking out the room.

His demon butler had no idea of the thoughts and decisions that had crossed the earl's mind in those few short moments.

~O~

Ciel tipped the dainty tea cup, by itself valuing and more than what most commoners earned a week, taking a refined sip as he watched the morning goings-on in his mansion over the rim of his teacup. Before him lay a breakfast of feast-like proportions, decorating the mahogany table with its sparkling dishes and scrumptious looking breakfast treats.

Not bad. But then again, only what was expected of a butler of a family such as Phantomhive.

Ciel took another sip of his Earl Grey, watching through hard, calculating eyes as Sebastian chased the chibi-form of Tanaka through the hall. It seemed Tanaka had a glasses fetish, judging by the near-blind Mey Rin in hysterics as she clutched onto Sebastian's arm.

The house really did rely too much on Sebastian.

Taking a last sip, Ciel finished his tea, leaving the dining hall without taking a bite of the lavish breakfast prepared for him.

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><p><strong>Review please :) I think I'm gonna write another undressing-Ciel scene just for the heck of it XD<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey. Sorry this chapter is a little short, but I think the ending is fitting :)**

**Disclaimer(must I put this every chapter?): Don't own.**

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><p>"BRIIIII-IIINGG!"<p>

Ciel bolted upright in bed, swathed in blankets, head groggy and brain foggy. What the hell! He'd kill Seba-

Oh. Right.

Slumping, he yawned widely, arms out-stretched in front of him. Lazily rubbing his left eye, Ciel turned his head to look at the ancient clock resting on his bedside table. Suddenly realizing that the clock wasn't going to switch itself off, he grumpily slammed a hand down on it, at the last minute withholding some of his strength so as not to completely pulverize it.

He sighed.

He regarded the wooden thing apprehensively, as if it were going to jump up and bite him. It was an old thing, bought all those years ago simply for show. After all, who needed a clock when you had a demon butler?

Five fifteen in the morning. He had a little over two hours before Sebastian came to wake him up at the usual seven-thirty. Time to get to work.

Hurriedly dressing himself – and reminded of unpleasant times spent in a certain Noah's Ark – in some random garb he didn't even bother to take a second look at, Ciel quietly made his way down the large stairway and into the kitchen – that Sebastian had the ears of a bat, and it never hurt to be careful.

Walking into the spartan beige kitchen, Ciel grabbed an apple as breakfast, taking lady-like bites to savour the fruity sweetness. He could always demand Sebastian make something more filling for him later. Padding out of the rather homely kitchen, Ciel opened the large, heavy wooden doors of his mansion, wincing slightly at the strain.

Grabbing his cane, Ciel took a deep breath, looking out at the bustling streets. A light breeze ruffled his shirt, and dead leaves blew across his boots. His palms sweated lightly against his custom-made cane as he looked forward fixedly, jaw set in a determined line. He looked imperiously into the distance, seeing horse-drawn carriages and diminutive looking unshaven men going about their business. He lifted his cane slightly, and brought it back down upon the ground as he took one step forward.

It was as such that the young earl of Phantomhive left his domineering mansion for the first time, in what seemed like forever, _without his butler._

~O~

Sebastian lethargically rose out of the state he used to replace sleeping as a queer feeling came over him, as if there was a disturbance in the force. Something was wrong, and it was so unfamiliar and out of place that it was enough to rouse Sebastian from his 'slumber'.

He sat up in his sparse bed, one hand rubbing his head as he –

Crimson eyes shot open wide as it hit him: the Young Master was not in his room, nor in the mansion, or even anywhere _near _it!

Scrambling out of bed, he hurriedly pressed his suit down, for once not worrying that it wasn't perfect. Usually, he was certain of his ability in getting the young master back, but this hadn't been planned like before and he hadn't sensed anything unusual in the manor aside from the young master's disappearance. What's more, his lord hadn't called for him yet, which meant he was probably unconscious. Someone who could get past his demon-enhanced senses and manage to knock out the young master before he could call for him…

This could mean trouble. Real trouble.

He dashed to his master's bedroom, the missing body rather unsurprising but unsettling all the same. Crap, wher –

Sebastian frowned. Something was wrong with this scene. He leant against the door, thumb and index finger forming a tick against his chin as his foot tapped rhythmically against the floor. What…

His eyes zeroed in on one clue at a time, black demon pupils shrinking and increasing like a miniature scope. One, the young master's ancient alarm clock was out on his desk. Two, nothing of value seemed to be missing other than the young master himself. Three, his clothing drawer wasn't closed properly…

In two long strides, Sebastian was at the ancient oak contraption, pulling open the half-closed drawer with a flourish. Just as he expected; the items set out for the day's outfit were missing. With a rather exasperated air, Sebastian sat on Ciel's bed, eyes staring unseeingly forward.

Oh, young master, young master… Whatever are you up to now?

~O~

Ciel walked along the cobbled streets, handkerchief held delicately over his nose and mouth in an attempt to filter out the horrid smell. The place reeked of urination and faeces, sickness and decay. The decrepit area was a well-known slum, a pick-up area for nobles such as himself in search of free slaves. The poor beggars had long ago learnt and taken advantage of this fact; organizing themselves as efficiently as possible in the hopes of being 'adopted' by a member of high society.

Ciel liked this place. It had all manner of people; arrogant, shy, intelligent, hardworking. Young and old resided in the rather-clean area, some living their whole lives here while some picked up less than a week into their stay. The Yard hadn't bothered to properly dispose of the area; why turn down a cost-free slavery? It didn't really affect the more popular areas much, and the scum themselves saw to it that the place was minimally clean so as not to turn away potential 'buyers'.

They also reminded him of himself. But he wasn't going to dwell on that.

Already the lowlife had spotted his refined dressing and air of importance, calling out to him and clamouring at his legs, yet careful not to actually _touch_ his clothes. An unspoken rule learned long ago by harsh hits and undeserved pain; touch not what wasn't yours.

"Mister, Mister! Pick me, pick me!" A young girl from the self-proclaimed category, "Cute", crawled over, rags for clothes picked up more dirt than would have thought possible as they dragged over the uneven stone. Ciel stopped in his tracks, cane stilling in the air as he waited patiently for the girl of about seven to reach him. She took this as encouragement, a grin with several teeth missing – probably a result of some form of abuse or other – plastered across her unwashed cheeks as she crawled with renewed vigor towards him. She tugged at his boot leg.

The previously noisy alleyway went deathly silent.

The tension could be sliced with a knife as the people's eyes bugged out, curious as to what the refined young gentlemen was going to do, having been as good as _violated_ by the _grime_ at his feet. Ciel gracefully tilted his head downwards, eyes unblinkingly blank as he watched the oblivious, still-smiling girl.

His hardwood cane rested millimeters from her fragile skull.

Slowly, ever-so-slowly, Ciel knelt down towards the girl's eye-level, both arms on either side of his knees as his contemplative, calculating eyes stared at her bright grey eyes. The grimy fingerprint on his otherwise gleaming boot stuck out like a sore thumb, as if screaming for attention.

"I… do not like you."

You could hear a pin drop.

"Scram."

A collective sigh was heard as each of the slaves let out their breaths at once, relieved that no harm was brought to their 'sister'. His hand still clutching the silk handkerchief he'd previously used to cover his nose – the smell had subsided once out of the dirtier alleyways and into the relatively acceptable surroundings of the slaves' dwellings –, he stood up, delicately wiping the smudge of his boot. Grimacing, he deftly threw the smeared handkerchief at a nearby woman, most likely the girl's mother as her face had been the whitest during the unnecessary scare.

She grasped it with both palms, at the same time somehow forcing the still-grinning-idiotically girl back into the shadows. They remained there, the woman silently thanking the earl with her eyes.

Dismissing the incident as nothing more than a minor setback, the young earl continued on his way, noting absentmindedly that the young girl was missing a leg. Well, that would explain the crawl. Just as soon as he realized it, he forgot it; mind caught on more important matters as he entered the deeper alleyways, in search of the people he required, the people meant for serious business.

Turning the corner, he entered the place where the people opting for serious servants were, sitting beside the same dirty drains and yet carrying more dignity than the people in the previous alley. A boy of about thirteen, lifeless eyes staring blankly, approached the young earl, bowing respectfully as he monotonously inquired, "How may we help you, sir?"

Not bothering to spare the boy a single glance, dark aqua eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for the person her required. The boy, realizing he was being ignored, merely bowed once more before returning to his place on the floor.

The people here were more sensible; there was no eager calling attempt at impressing. People who came here did not look for mere play toys; people who came here meant business. They merely looked at him, some nervously twitching or whatever it was the hell they did.

Ciel did not care.

He glanced at all of their faces in turn, scrutinizing each feature as he carefully evaluated their personality. He spied something he liked.

Striding forwards, robes swishing as his long cane tapped the ground, Ciel walked towards a young man in the corner. He was a nervous one, seeming to shrink backwards as the young boy easily half his age approached. He had a commanding presence, dwarfing the elder man. A milky hand extended from beneath a large sleeve, cupping the mid-twenties man's chin. Smiling innocently, yet everyone sensed the dangerous undertones, the child tilted the surprised man's head sideways, brown hair shifting to the right.

"You, my dear man,"

Ciel's smile grew into a smirk, one exposed eye challenging the man as he slowly lifted him to his feet,

"- would make a decent butler."

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><p><strong>:D Review please! <strong>

**Btw, I'm thinking of getting a beta(yes! these 2 chapters r un-betad, so excuse the crappiness), would anyone be interested?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry this took so long D: Exams and stuff. But my hols have arrived(finally!) so I might be able to update faster! 8D**

**In return, here's this particularly long chappie!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

**Edit: I rewrote Chapter 3 because it was bugging me. No major plot changes, but I rectified some grammatical and such errors. I also changed tea-time to four, as although no one realised it, in Chapter 4 tea-time is four whereas in the original Chapter 3 tea-time is 4.30 :facepalm**

**Hope this is better.**

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><p>Sebastian paced back and forth, having completed all of his butler duties in less than an hour. He reached a slender hand into his coat pocket, taking out his recently-polished pocket watch.<p>

Nine-thirty.

Just where was his young master? He was late for his breakfast, most unseemly of a fine young gentleman. What was more, breakfast was the most important meal of the day, and therefore vital to his young master's growth. Of course, the demon had noticed the missing apple, but surely the young master was coming back in time for breakfast. One apple could hardly be filling for a growing boy such as he.

Right?

He paused in his mental musings, once more straining his ears for the tell-tale patter of his young master's boots. The stupid earl hadn't taken the carriage to wherever it was he'd went gallivanting off to, meaning there was no other way for him to enter other than on foot. The stupid boy. Did he not know; if he wasn't used to walking on foot, a sudden long journey could cause horrible blisters? Did he not care for his aching feet? Really. And to think the young master was now thirteen.

He really should have had more sense. What's more, he'd left without explanation, not sparing a thought for his clueless servants.

Sebastian unconsciously frowned. Behind him, keeping a safe distance, Mey Rin silently sweeped the hall floor.

Mey Rin was sick with worry, having discovered the lack of her young master after heading into his room to make the bed. Instead, she'd seen a certain Sebastian, slumped, staring off into space. It was not unusual for Mister Sebastian to be deep in thought, but in his Young Master's room? On his _bed_? It was most inappropriate of a butler to be so acquainted with his Young Master's possessions! The fact that it was Mister Sebastian only made it all the more surprising; Mister Sebastian was known for nothing if not his efficiency as the perfect butler. Shocked, she had dropped her dustpan, visibly startling the silent figure on the bed. Unusually inattentive, he'd been unable to catch the dustpan before it hit the floor, face turned to hers for a shocked moment as if to share his disbelief. He'd left rather hurriedly after that, of course, not sparing her another glance.

…

Her loyalty was placed with no one but the Young Master, of course, and she knew that he could take care of himself just fine, but a certain motherly part of her had seen Sebastian's face. And, well, Sebastian's face had been totally, completely, and utterly blank. The fake smile might as well have been non-existent, for all she cared. If Sebastian was _that_ worried, well… The Young Master was like a little brother to her. The little brother she never got a chance to meet.

Behind the spacing out girl, a rugged man stood, ever-present cigarette puffing vile smoke into the morning air.

Bard was his usual self, confident in the young master's return, but by the time nine hit even _he_ was starting to worry a bit.

After all, the young master _never_ went anywhere without Sebastian.

Finny, well… it was decided that it was for the best if he didn't know. Currently, said gardener was out pruning the rose bushes, whistling happily as he snipped off flower after flower, _against specific orders __**not**__ to._

Tanaka drank his tea.

Sebastian lightly tapped his shoe against the carpeted floor, thoughts wandering in ridiculous directions. He was not like the other servants; he saw the young master in his worst states, emotional and _vulnerable._ After seeing such a strong figure fall countless times, how was he expected to keep the same image of the earl in his mind as of the other servants? They saw nothing, knew nothing… What if the young master was seriously hurt? He could've left the house with a sane mind, but what if he got kidnapped? What if he tripped and fell off a cliff? Unlikely, but who knew what that crazy child was up to half the time? What if he got killed, or worse, raped? He had to admit, for a child, the young earl had a perfectly delectable body. Especially in a dress. Mm-hmm. Those aside, Sebastian would never be able to forgive himself – _lies lies –_! Demon or not, his butler senses were kicking in.

After all, if the young master died before his time, his sweet soul would never make it to Sebastian's mouth.

"Mister Sebastian!" A brown and beige blur came barreling towards him, followed closely by a stern yet concerned, "P-Prince! Please, control yourself!"

Swiftly dodging the hysterical prince – he'd forgotten about him, unfortunately –, Sebastian non-too-happily snapped his precious pocket watch shut, carefully placing it back in his coat pocket. Smoothing his face once more, he bowed deeply, calmly saying, "Prince Soma, what – "

"Tell me where Ciel is! Tell me NOW! How dare you! You let poor Ciel go out all on his own! I know he's a big boy, but he's still a child! Honestly, Sebastian! And the poor servants, too! If Mey Rin hadn't alerted me, I – "

_Ugh._

"- bet you wouldn't even have informed me! The poor boy, you must have a bad influence on him! Shame on you! Do you not care about Ciel at all? He – "

Sebastian, quick as a flash, grabbed onto one of the sobbing prince's arms, face unreadable as he stared into the murky depths of the younger man's eyes. His voice was monotonous, revealing no emotion as he calmly stated, "The Young Master is safe, do not worry."

Sebastian almost giggled. The young prince looked as if he was about to faint, or worse; pee in his one hundred percent cotton pants specially imported from India.

"B-B-But… Mey Rin said…"

"Whatever Mey Rin said, I'm sorry to tell you that it's most likely incorrect or not the whole truth. Please calm yourself down and deal with the matter at hand rationally."

"Prince! Mister Sebastian is right! Please calm down." Agni waved his hands around, attracting the attention of his beloved prince. Both were unnerved at the butler's blank state.

"A-Alright.. But only because you told me to, Agni!" Prince Soma took a step back, away from the seemingly glowing face of the young butler. Even if he couldn't see what exactly he'd done wrong, by the panic in Agni's face he could tell he was treading in dangerous waters…

Sebastian huffed, unnoticeable by human eyes. Mostly, he could stand the stupid prince's ramblings, but that last statement had been too much. He didn't care for his young master? What idiot would dare insinuate that! Didn't he adhere to every wish of the earl's? Wasn't he worrying his hair out with the young master's disappearance? Who was the one who stayed by his bedside every night? Who was the one who gave him an amulet so precious most mortals would kill for it?

_Who was it? How dare someone imply he was nothing but one __**hell**__ of a butler!_

Not caring that he was probably overreacting, the demon turned swiftly away from the still-blubbering prince, coattails swishing, once more stationing himself in front of the manor doors. Why, he –

_Click. Click._

He was by the gates in a flash, holding open the wrought iron contraptions seconds before the Young Master even stepped onto the cobbled pathway leading to his mansion. Oops, had the servants noticed that?

No matter. Strolling along the cobbled pathway was his beloved young master, coat buttons glinting in the sunlight. The royal blue fabric complemented his porcelain features nicely, bringing out the faint flush in his face as he made his way across the front yard. The white ruffles nestled snugly between the blue material swayed lightly in the breeze, sky blue stockings hugging sculpted legs as high-heeled shoes clacked against the spotless cobblestone.

"Young Master," Sebastian bowed, hand over heart, welcoming his master. The ruffled lace on the young master's skirt-like shorts fluttered past his face, as the young master himself strolled past, barely glancing at his servant.

"Sebastian; fetch the guest."

… Guest? Oh yes, now that he was less preoccupied with his master's whereabouts, he could sense the other presence waiting outside the mansion. Nervous energy radiated from him or her in waves; he must really be losing his touch if his master's mere presence warranted such ignorance on his part.

"Yes, my lord."

~O~

The man was dirty, covered in street filth from head to toe. No wonder the young master hadn't ridden the carriage; the plush red seats would have been browned with all the grime.

Stubble dotted his chin, mud-brown hair coarse with grit. Unkempt, his bangs kept falling into his nervous grey eyes, smiling sheepishly as he noticed the well-dressed butler heading towards him. He was a decent young man, heart pure and untainted by the harsh realities of living in England's slums. If the butler were to take a guess, the young man would probably have been one of those scholarly-types, fresh out of his studies and recently sacked from a job.

Yes. His kind were much too kind-hearted to make it to the higher-echelons of society. He reminded Sebastian of a certain Mr Wordsmith. The memory brought a faint smile to his lips; just one of the many endeavors that he and the young master had partaken in, with everyone else kept in the dark… But that smile was quickly wiped off when the young man spoke.

"Er, hello! I –"

"Please, come this way," smiling his clinical smile, eyes devoid of all emotion, Sebastian ushered the idiotic man into the mansion, seemingly not noticing his rather rude interruption. Such a man was not worthy of his precious time.

The young man was rather taken aback, but seemed to calm as he followed the butler into the lavish mansion. Large and foreboding, the walls were endowed with multiple expensive-looking paintings, art so fine and detailed one could simply jump in and live there forever. The wallpaper was a simple beige, red lacing at the base of the wall providing a nice contrast to the dark blue carpeting of the main hall. Thick, maroon curtains framed glass windows overlooking vast expanses of green grass and blue sky, a beautiful picture in itself. The place was airy and bright, rays of golden sunlight streaming through open windows, and yet the inside remained cold and formal, an area so self-absorbed it was a whole world unto itself.

But none of the occupants realized this. All they saw was the pretty tapestry, intricate art and polished furnishings.

Too preoccupied gawking, the young slave did not notice the smirking boy seated on a mahogany chair, watching his every move with a single silent eye. Deciding it was time for some things to be cleared up, Sebastian cleared his throat.

"Ahem. The guest you requested, Young Master?"

"Yes, very good, Sebastian. Call in the other servants. I have an announcement to make."

"Yes, my lord."

~O~

They were all lined up, in a line as orderly as they were capable of forming. Snake took place at the head and the rest following behind, chit-chattering amongst themselves. Sebastian, of course, stood behind the young master's chair. It was a spot reserved for him and him alone.

Tapping his cane against the ground, the earl of Phantomhive cleared his throat, gaining his bumbling servants' attention. An air of apprehension dawned upon the room as Mey Rin, Bard and Finny finally noticed the awkward-looking man shuffling from foot to foot. Silencing Finny with a single raised finger, who had been about to introduce himself and get about setting the man at ease, the young earl made his announcement.

"Everyone, this is…"

Awkward pause, and even Ciel looked a bit shocked at his obvious mess-up.

"George, sir."

Regaining his composure, Ciel cleared his throat once more, pointedly ignoring the snickering butler.

"Right. This is George, and he will be a new servant. Welcome him graciously. Do not let me down. Oh, and Sebastian, you are to train him in the ways of being a butler."

With that, the earl flounced out of the room, unable to stop the manic giggle that escaped his lips.

~O~

Silence.

Heavy, awkward silence, lined with hints of disbelief and denial.

Shock was written so uniformly it was almost comical on every servant's face, the demon butler himself unable to stop a slight widening of the eyes.

…_What?_

And, lo and behold, realization dawned.

The same one thought, with blinding clarity, ran through everyone's befuddled minds like a lightning bolt through darkened skies.

_A new butler?_

You could slice the sudden tension with a knife. The silence was almost palpable, everyone sensing the sudden anger emanating from the silent butler. You could practically _feel_ the hatred flowing off of him in delicate waves of silky black, laced with tones of red anger as it swirled around the room, suffocating the people inside. Breaths were held as the room's occupants' survival instincts told them to shut up if they wanted their head on their shoulders, people staring uneasily at the seemingly calm butler. As if the almost tangible hatred running off him could be hidden with a simple fake smile.

"Well, why don't you introduce yourself, then." It was not a question, but a statement. The innocent man never stood a chance.

"W-Well, I – "

"Very good. You will meet me in the kitchen at 5 o'clock sharp. Your training begins then."

Black tailcoats disappeared round the corner, so fleeting one could question whether it had ever really been there, and the butler was gone.

~O~

"So.. Um…" George trailed off uncomfortably, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Finny obliviously bounced over to the discomfited man, intent on his mission. He didn't know what the deal was with the earl's obvious amusement, nor the butler's just as obvious distaste, but he knew when a person was feeling out of his depth it was only nice to help out.

"Hi! I'm Finny here, short for Finnian, and this here is Bard, short for Bardroy, and that's Mey Rin, she cleans, and I'm the gardener here, though I can barely do anything; Mister Sebastian always has to help out at the end, and – oh! I haven't introduced Mister Sebastian, have I? He was the one who left just now. And Bard cooks, and Mey Rin cleans, and oh have I told you that already? And this here is Snake, he talks to his snakes over there and don't need to be scared, they are rather friendly, and won't bite, in fact I rather like Oscar, oh Oscar is his snake, he's that one over there, and then there's Wordsworth and his friends, and Snake can tell you all about them later, and don't mind the earl he's still a child and really rather kind and so is Mister Sebastian, he's probably just in one of his moods and oh aren't you just a wonderful man! I'm sure we'll get along fine!"

Cue blinding smile.

Pause.

"So… uh… what exactly is Mister Sebastian again?"

"Oh! We don't really know you see, he does things oh so very fast and really is most capable and – "

Grumbling irritably, hoping to save his bleeding ears, Bard stepped forward. "Finny, shush. George, Sebastian is the butler and Snake is the footman."

Finny, realizing something was amiss, instinctively crouched low, hands clutched against his chest as tears threatened to stream down his face. "Oh oh was I being too overbearing again? Please, you must forgive me, Bard! And George too, I'm so sorry! So very very sorry! I didn't mean to!"

Mey Rin rushed in to save the situation, smiling calmly and kindly as she took matters into her own hands. Gently placing a hand on the bewildered man's forearm, she coaxed him to the servants' room, ignoring Bard's indignant huff. No good would come out of anything if she let the poor man hang around her insane counterparts. Silently beckoning for Snake over her shoulder, she began the proper introductions.

"Well, George, nice to meet you. I'm Mey Rin, and…"

~O~

"_What.. What is the meaning of this?"_

_Ciel stared at his butler with a shocked eye, clear blue innocent with ignorance. "Wha – "_

"_What, am I not good enough a butler for you? Why do you need a second butler? Because he better not be here to __**replace**__ me! How __**dare**__ you humiliate me with your whims, thinking a mere human ruffian could compare. He's covered in dirt, street filth, and yet you dare to place him beside me?"_

_Ciel stared, shock and horror written on his face as realization of his impulsive actions dawned upon him._

"_Se- Sebas –"_

_His lower lip trembled._

"_Enough! You humans are all the same, stupid creatures with no sense of basic __**courtesy**__. I __**despise**__ you people, not enough brains to – "_

No no no no no. He didn't even know how to continue, the possibilities of a situation such as that too slim. It was so unlike both of them, he couldn't even begin to comprehend the proper way a situation such as that would turn out. Ciel, apologetic and remorseful? _HA!_

But still. Slumped on his bed, Sebastian sighed. What in the world was his young master thinking, picking up a random slave and training him to be a butler? There had to be a rational explanation. There could be no way Ciel was thinking of replacing him, could there?

Of course not. He was, after all, one hell of a butler.

And anyone who disagreed could go f*ck themselves.

Exhaling in one big _whoosh_, Sebastian crossed and uncrossed his legs – much as what his young master would do when thinking, he realized. Anyway, perhaps the Young Master was working on a case that involved that bedraggled man? Understandable, but then why was he not informed? Not even a knowing smirk sent in his direction. What, did his foolish master think he could read human minds? Or maybe he thought his ever-present butler knew him enough to know without being told.

While certainly a nice thought – Sebastian smirked – it was sadly untrue.

Ah, whatever. All would eventually be revealed in time, he was sure.

And yet, his demon instincts were unconvinced…

~O~

"My lord." Four o'clock sharp. Tea was served.

The earl looked up from the papers he was reading, frown so deep it looked permanent.

"What?"

"…Your tea."

The young earl's frown instantly disappeared, relief instantaneous as the briefest of smiles graced his beautiful face. Placing his quill gently down, he waited as his butler went over to him.

The sweet scent of tea and scones wafted towards him, and he eagerly reached for the treats he never asked for, faithfully provided nonetheless.

As he sipped on the delightful Earl Gray, his butler watched him with unreadable red eyes, in one gloved hand the plate of scones his young master had yet to consume.

Sure, he had a lot of questions, anger and confusion bubbling at the back of his mind. He hadn't forgiven his young master for the day's tiny betrayal, but he thought; why bother? It was a trivial matter, nothing big in the whole scheme of things, and probing would just complicate things. Why not wait for the explanation willingly given to him? The young master had never failed him before.

And he had faith in the small human. Dare he say… trust? Regardless. And so, for the moment, the demon simply contented himself with the rare soft smile upon his earl's lips.

~O~

Sebastian looked down at the scum in his spotless kitchen, dressed in a white suit. He wondered where the man got such a suit, _Le Bal Blanc, _expensive branded French material, when he was simply a slave. Probably stole it.

And it was white. Ugh. Of all colours.

Simply because all that white irked him, Sebastian barked, "Change. Now."

George, who'd been about to chirp hello and possibly start anew with the strange man who seemed to hate him for no apparent reason, spluttered for a moment, floundering until he found his tongue.

"But but! The Young Master gave this to me!"

Sebastian's blood boiled. _What?_ Oh, so the Young Master has decided to play the good guy again, hmm? Giving a new slave expensive clothes that simply _mocked_ him. Oh yes, white. The exact opposite of black. What game was the young master trying to play?

"… Fine. Keep the clothes. Now pay attention. I'll start with the basics."

~O~

Watching George struggle with his unreasonably high demands and expectations, Sebastian couldn't help the inklings of mirth that consumed him. This man was so eager to please; he reminded Sebastian too much of a dog. A willing, naïve, all-too-trusting and therefore _useless_ dog.

Well. This just might be fun, after all.

~O~

Outside, the winds howled, large raindrops splattering against glass windowpane. Trees creaked and swayed in the onslaught of elements, bending and twisting, threatening to break and blow away with the dead leaves. The sky was black, billowing with fury, thunder crackling as its counterpart, lightning, flashed and threw the storm in sickening white light. The night air was heavy, suffocating as much as it provided life. Just as well, there was no one outdoors anyway.

Inside, however, separated from the chaos outside, was quiet. Though arguably just as chaotic, it was messy in a different sense. There were no words spoken, not out loud, no sounds breaking the silence of the house. But even so, there was much chaos, such confusion and hurt and anger and any number of emotions as thoughts and feelings clashed inside hearts and heads.

The demon's red eyes glowed, taking in the prone form of the sleeping boy. For that's all he was, really, for all his airs simply a vulnerably little thing caught in the web of society. He almost felt pity for such a ridiculous object, and yet could not, as somehow this inconsequential mortal had affected him so deeply with his actions. Not a child, and yet not exactly an adult, he'd invoked strong emotions long thought buried in his demon, no longer bound by merely contract but perhaps curiousity, as well.

"Mum.. Dad.. No! L-leave.."

Ah, the moment he had been waiting for. He didn't even know why he bothered anymore; the boy had shown more than enough times that he could take care of himself. He seemed perfectly fine without his butler, even acting on his own that very same morning. Did he know, the demon wondered, how deathly tight he had held onto his butler a mere few hours prior? Or had he been aware only of his dastardly plan and game?

"No! Help me.. Somebody…"

The boy squirmed in his sheets, knuckles white as his nails threatened to rip the picture he held so dearly apart. The amulet, instead of ritually clutched in his hand, had now been worn around his neck. For some reason, the demon found this change in arrangement rather amusing and a great improvement.

"Anybody…"

The hand shot out, as it had countless times before, shivering slightly in the cold night air. It seemed more desperate tonight than usual, but Sebastian paid no mind.

Just what exactly did his young master want? Sebastian was hesitant in his taking of the young master's hand, something telling him that things were not quite right. He found himself uncaring for this teasing game of the young master's; surprisingly tired, emotionally drained. And, in turn, the comfort he offered was tired, strained, and perhaps not wholeheartedly there.

"My lord, I'm… here."

The little arm stopped flailing, but eyes still shifted restlessly beneath closed eyelids, appearing unconvinced of the tired reassurance. Sebastian, however, seemed too tired – _for once_ – to care.

* * *

><p><strong>Review please! :) Still open to betas. I hope I got rid of the OOCness from the original version.<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Woo. New chapter. Go and read my new oneshot, Simply Love, first! XD If you're impatient for some sebaciel fluff, of course~ **

**/is shamelessly pimping own story XD/**

* * *

><p>"Ooh~ Back for the usual so soon, my dear?"<p>

The taunting voice haunted him, amusement lilting the carefree tone.

"A-Aye, sir. But.. This time, I have a request."

"Oh~ Hmm, you know the cost of a request is slightly different from the usual, yes? Nothing less than the heartiest of laughs!"

The tinkling chuckle of the abomination sickened him.

"…Yes. I was thinking, however, that maybe this request would interest you enough to forgo that payment."

He… hadn't succeeded. Not once.

"Oh~?"

He took the carefully folded photograph out of his pocket, sliding it over the smooth wood of the coffin he was leaning on.

"Oh, ahah-haha..ha! I-I can't believe it! Oh, dear Lord! Mnh-pahhahahha~!"

The madman's manic giggles echoed in the small room, bouncing off silent coffins and rattling the bones of the dead.

"Y-you can't be serious, my dear man! Oh heehee hooha, you DO know that he is a nobleman, right, sugar?"

"Yes, of course, but he is ever so worth it!" He adopted a dreamy look in his eyes, losing his nervousness as he drifted off in his own dreamland. "That pale, alabaster smooth skin; that lovely physique; silky hair the colour of the sea at dusk; eyes so deep they mirror his very soul.. Simply exquisite!"

The body across from him shifted, coughing lightly as he twirled around the coffin. One long, pale finger tipped his chin, lengthy sharp nail barely scratching his throat. The voice was deeper than before, dropping an octave with sultry goodness.

"Now, now, don't get carried away~ This one… He'll be difficult. Especially when you want to do… _what you want to do _with him. I have, say, a personal agenda that involves this beauty you speak of. Nevertheless, you have paid your price, and I'll see what I can do."

Quick as a flash, the eccentric man danced away, hiding once more within the shadows of his dusty shop. Voice sugar-sweet, it once more regained its childish tone, calling out as a maiden would to her leaving lover,

"Ta-ta now! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

Even blinded by the darkness, he still felt as if he was the only presence left in the room.

"A-Ah, yes," he said in a small voice, "Good-bye."

A tinkle of bells as the shop door closes.

A whispered thought.

_Freak._

~O~

Grey eyes searched the shelves for the right box, hundreds of them stacked together with tiny lettering labeling them. He would probably have to get glasses if he wanted to continue working here.

Ah, Earl Grey. The young master's favourite, if his senpai was reliable. The servants seemed to have a high regard for that Mister Sebastian, and he seemed to be the young master's favourite servant. Well, in George's opinion, he was merely a big jerkwad with too big a head. Really, he was just a butler, and surely there was a reasonable explanation for why the earl needed another butler. But he wasn't going to lie; those red eyes could scare the shit out of him though. And, to give credit where credit was due, the imposing guy did seem to be nothing short of perfect. When the other servants messed up, which George noticed to be quite often, he was always there to scold and keep them in line. Sometimes a bit _too_ harsh, in George's mind.

As he poured tea flakes onto the metallic strainer, George couldn't help but let his mind wander towards his new master. Such a young little boy; who'd have known this was the true brains behind the hugely successful Funtom Company? Okay, so the majority of the population didn't really believe that the tea-toting old man in the news was the real genius, but they'd expected something like a red-haired, eccentric guy with sharp teeth and too much time on his hands. No one really knew why; it was just the instant mental image everyone got. It was even rumored that this man that haunted their minds went around with a _chainsaw_, of all things, with him. But it wasn't reliable; it varied from small scissors to tree-trimmers and besides, it was the fruit of people's imaginations, anyway.

The man probably didn't even exist.

Humming lightly to himself, George finished brewing the tea just the way Mister Sebastian had said to, and proceeded to the young master's study.

Knocking lightly at the door, George waited patiently for the sharp call of "Come in!" before turning the knob and entering. Shoulders back, chest out, body straight; Mister Sebastian's coaching rang out in his mind. Now would be the first time George made an appearance as a formal butler in front of his master, and he was sure not to screw this up.

Staring straight in his young master's eyes – Sebastian had said constant eye-contact was vital in communicating effectively with his bocchan; bocchan didn't like cowards –, George opened his mouth to announce the reason for his arrival, but found himself tongue-tied. He abruptly shut his mouth, looked away, and gathering what dignity he had left said in a small voice, "Your tea, Young Master."

He expected a rebuking, or at least a harsh warning, for leaving his mouth open in such an unpresentable way in front of the young master. However, all he heard as he poured the tea into a delicate china cup was a lilting laugh, light and enchanting like a bird's song, drifting from behind the desk. Surprised, he could not help glancing in his master's direction, and discovered that this time, he couldn't look away.

"So, George, doing okay?"

The tone was careless, flippant even, and the smile wide and forgiving. Not caring, exactly, but the kind that exuded a warm sense of calm and happiness that only a child could possess. The way the earl's teal hair caught the sunlight, making it appear a shade lighter – turquoise, he mentally noted – as the small head tilted back. The sweet mouth was open in a round-edged triangle, carefree and certain. The whole picture reminded him of any child in the streets, unopressed by the responsibilities and terrors of the world, innocent and happy.

George found himself wilting under the child's grin and informal words, forgetting his place in the moment. "Ah, yes, I'm fine, thank you." He smiled back.

Too late he realized his blunder, and started stammering as his grey eyes clouded with apprehension. "Ah, I'm sorry, I mean my apologies, young master. I thought – No, I forgot my place, young master. My deepest apologies." He said in all in a rush of breath, bowing low as he hurriedly tried to amend.

Now he really _was_ in for it.

And yet, all the child did was laugh.

"Oh, George, fret not. We don't have to keep up this pretense; there's no one else here in this four walls. Relax, "a blinding smile, "but not too much," a playful wink, "'cause we can't have the other servants complaining, can we?"

Was… Was the young master _flirting_ with him?

"Ah! I see the look on your face, George. Let me explain. To me, a butler is my right-hand man. He is the only person I can and _will_ confide in, thus my demeanor. Of course, we shall act as earl and butler in public, but please, treat me as a friend in here." Ciel smiled warmly.

George knew he was treading in dangerous waters, but that lovely smile couldn't possibly be hiding any malicious intents, could it? "B..But what about Mister Sebastian, Young Master?"

The beautiful smile vanished in an instant.

Face growing cold and hostile, the earl whispered lowly, "As you must know, every privilege comes with responsibility. For the privilege of being my right-hand man, my confidante, it is only understand that you do _not_ betray me. Ever."

The young boy's face changed again, into one of hurt and betrayal, and George felt his heart twist painfully.

"Mister Sebastian… He did something to me. Something I hope you will never do, George. Promise me."

Not quite sure what Mister Sebastian had, indeed, done, and subsequently what he was promising to, George couldn't help but acquiesce to the large blue eyes pleading with him. The draw was so strong, George felt as if he was being pulled into those clear pools – maybe he was related to the earl in some way in a past life?

"Yes, I promise, Young Master. Anything for you."

In an instant, the child's face morphed into one of cheeriness again, and George felt that terrible ache in his heart just as instantly disappear.

"Very good, George! That's exactly what I wanted to hear!" Smiling brightly once more, Ciel reached for his tea without waiting for George to serve him – waving his petite hand dismissively when George worriedly opened his mouth to protest.

As George watched this small child drink his tea, legs hoisted on his mahogany desk, he felt an inexplicable _urge_ to protect him. Sure, he was his master and a formidable earl, but he was really still a child at heart. Only, no one else knew this because only the Phantomhive's _butlers_ had the privilege of seeing it in the first place, a different side of this tragic story.

Pulling himself up to his full height, watching the earl giggle in his tea as a nearby bluebird danced on a windowsill, George pledged something to himself. This poor child, strong or not, had gone through enough. Losing his family, and then losing what little trust there must have been between him and Mister Sebastian… No child should have had to go through that. And since he, George Wishbone, was given this chance – this _privilege_, as the earl had said – to work with and to have the earl's trust placed in him, he would not throw it away. He would not abuse it in any way, as Mister Sebastian surely must have done.

And so, he hereby pledged to himself – _sweared_ on his poor mother's grave –, that he would protect this child. At all costs.

No matter what.

And he would start by doing his job. Gently taking the now-empty tea cup from his young master's desk, he slowly poured in some of the Earl Grey tea he'd made, hoping the aroma and taste would lift the earl's spirits. In a soft voice, he said,

"Here, Young Master. Have more tea." Ciel Phantomhive merely smiled in response.

And that smile, that small curve of his lips, sealed not only George's mind but his heart, fickle as it may be, to this master he currently served.

_Forever._

~O~

The clock outside chimed four, and George realized that the young master had to get back to work. They'd been having a delightful conversation about many various things, unimportant things, but interesting things all the same. While the young master provided his and the nobles' views in that diplomatic way of his, George was able to provide the general, less fortunate, public's views. The very different, sometimes clashing, angles made even the most menial topics seem interesting.

"Ah, I'm sorry, Young Master, but it's – "

"Young Master."

Sebastian Michaelis entered without knocking, intruding upon the young master's study. Seeing George, he pointedly and, with the barest hint of surprise, cocked an eyebrow at the madly-grinning young master. Receiving no reply, he merely closed his eyes in a sign of exasperation, wheeling his cart of afternoon-tea alongside the still-giggling – really, what was with the near-constant giggling? Extremely uncharacteristic of the Young Master – earl's desk. Spying the already-present cup of tea, Sebastian arched a delicate eyebrow once more, this time turning towards the other butler present in the room.

"George. There you are. I've been looking all over for you for help with the household chores. But no matter; there are more pressing matters now. Why on earth did you bring the young master tea without my permission?"

Stammering, the nervous George did not know what to say to such a dignified fellow, before words of the conversation fifteen minutes prior entered his head once more. Why, the earl had basically handed it to him on a silver platter that Sebastian Michaelis had betrayed him in some form of other. In other words, this _dignified man_ was no more than a lying, cheating bastard, and he deserved none of George's respect.

Puffing his chest out, George said with all the conviction he could muster, "I did not see the need to request your permission. I was simply bringing the Young Master some refreshments as, being his butler, his welfare is always on my mind and I worried he might have tired of his work. It is also reason why he and I have been engaged in pleasant conversation this past fifteen minutes, resulting in my absence from the kitchen."

Oops. Had he said too much? No matter. This haughty scumbag did not deserve such consideration on his part.

Raising his head snidely, George said in a clear, calm voice, "And I shall be taking my leave now. The Young Master has work to do. I suggest you follow my example and leave the young master to work in peace as soon as possible."

Nodding his head as a sign of self-assuredness, but really to give himself a confidence boost, George turned once more to the young master. Going down on one knee, he placed his hand over his heart, bowing to his young master. "Master, I shall take my leave now."

And just like that, the white butler left the room in a swish of coattails.

~O~

Oh dear god. Ciel thought he was going to die. Of laughter, that is.

He is currently alone in his study, not sparing a thought for his huge pile of paperwork sitting on the desk, chortling as he recalls the events a few moments ago. Pure hilarity! He had certainly done the right thing, employing George.

Gaining his faith and sympathy was child's play to Ciel, and the way George had eyed him with reverence was simply all part of the plan. The fifteen-minute talk after was uncalled for, but surprisingly wasn't all that bad. In fact, the discussion had already given him some new ideas for Funtom produce. In addition, it had kept George in his study until four, where he got to meet Sebastian.

Oh, just _thinking_ about it had Ciel dissolving in laughter once more! Oh, Sebastian's face was simply _priceless._ And the dressing-down George gave him might as well have been a slap to the face! He hadn't had such a good laugh in _ages._ Oh, and how could he forget, George's grand exit. That _bow_, such a mockery of Sebastian's! The fact that it was totally unintentional just added to the amusement! Oh, he really wished he had had a camera on-hand to capture Sebastian's pinched face of disdain.

He was sure he would never forget the conversation afterwards, either. Or rather, lack of. Almost enough to forgive Sebastian for that stupid fiasco during their stay in Noah's Ark with the snakes. The poor demon had gone all haughty, giving him his tea with a surly face. Oh, of course he kept a beatific smile plastered as always, but it was so transparent to Ciel it might as well not have been there. The funny thing was, Sebastian _had, indeed_, listened to George. After handing him his scones, Sebastian had muttered a farewell and left. It was the _first time_ Sebastian had actually _not_ said anything.

On second thought, a much more somber notion niggled at him. What if Sebastian had truly been displeased? It would explain his abrupt leave and there _was_ that moment when his face had been most indecipherable…

_Ciel Phantomhive uncharacteristically slumped back in his chair, uncontrollable laughter racking his small frame. His demon butler looked on disapprovingly, nevertheless gently placing a plate of blueberry scones on the desk._

"_Young Master – " He started, but as he stared at his smiling young master, something hit him, rendering him speechless._

"_Y-yes, S-Sebastian?" The smirking earl said, finally sparing a moment to look his butler squarely in the eye._

_Sebastian's face was unreadable. Abruptly, he turned around, hiding his face from his young master. "Nothing." He said, and instinctively flinched when his voice came out strained. Lips stretched into a thin line, he left the study, leaving behind a confused earl._

Shaking his head at the memory, Ciel picked up his quill, getting ready to begin work once more. He'd never understood Sebastian before, why bother now? Besides, he was a demon; for all he knew, Sebastian could have received a message from Hell or something equally inconsequential. None of his business, either way.

Even so, Ciel had a hard time shaking off the weird feeling that came over him whenever he thought of Sebastian's face.

~O~

Sebastian knocked lightly on his master's study, intent on getting the earl to dinner. George, that irritating man, was finally out of his way, helping Mey Rin with the dinner preparations.

Receiving no reply, Sebastian opened the door, wondering what his young master was doing. Surprisingly, or maybe not that surprising after all, his young master was leaning back in his chair, dozing off lightly. His chair was half-turned away from his work, one hand resting comfortably on the arm rest while the other provided a means of support for his head.

Shaking his head lightly – he seemed to do that a lot with the young master nowadays –, Sebastian entered the room, making not a peep of noise as he got ready to wake the young master. Really, all the excitement of the day must have worn him out. He really should scold the boy, but…

Sebastian hadn't seen him laugh so much in such a _long_ time.

He sighed. The young master was constantly making problems for him. As a demon, he shouldn't stand for it. But… as a demon, he was supposed to be the greater being; should he really be so petty?

Regardless. With a light pat on Ciel's shoulder, Sebastian said, "Time for dinner, Young Master."

Ciel's sapphire eyes opened, blinking blearily into his demon's own red ones, and he nodded wearily as he brought himself out of his chair. One hand on his butler's for support, he expected a light chiding for sleeping on the job, but unexpectedly there was nothing.

Surprised, he looked to his demon, only then realizing how close his own face was to his butler's smirking one. Blushing furiously, he instinctively flinched back, only to knock the back of his knees against his chair. Before he could even blink, Sebastian's arms were wrapped around him, preventing him from falling back into his chair.

Releasing him, upright, from his hold, Sebastian smirked. "Young Master. We can't have you falling back into your chair when it's time for dinner, can we?"

Striding out of the room, something inaudible was mumbled out of the earl's mouth. Inaudible to humans, that is. Sebastian heard it loud and clear, and he lightly chuckled as he led the way to the dining room.

"Stupid demon."

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><p><strong>Haha I dare say the ending is sweeter once you've read Simply Love. Review please! Honestly, reviews give me more inspiration to write. No kidding.<strong>

**Oh hohoho, just who are the two mysterious guys at the starting?**


	5. Chapter 5

**First off, I'm sorry this took so long! I could tell you why and how exactly this chapter came so late, but you probably wouldn't want to hear it anyway. Also, due to that, the first half of this chapter and the second half were written rather far apart. If you notice any major transitioning errors and such, feel free to point it out! Again, sorry and I hope you enjoy this.**

**On a side-note, I think I will be changing my writing style a bit. The next chapter, of course.**

**One last thing. I'm thinking about changing the title. Anyone got any suggestions? Before I come up with more crap that will cause you to cringe everytime you see this story.**

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><p><em>Rock-a-bye baby,<em>

He hummed, body swaying slightly to the rhythm as he worked.

_Rock-a-bye baby, in the treetop,_

He sliced the thin layers carefully and with extreme precision; nothing but the best for his beloved, after all.

_When the wind blows, the cradle will rock,_

He sang the words of the familiar song softly, so as not to disturb the grandeur of the situation.

_And when my heart breaks, the cradle will fall.._

Done. He'd continue next week. But first…

_And down will come baby, head breaking on floor…_

He let his smooth palm caress her pale cheek, translucent in the harsh lighting. "My dear. It won't be long. Be patient."

~O~

It begins with the night.

It always does, doesn't it? Day is what you live for, but the beginning of day is night. The beginning of _existence _is night. Everything happens at night. Plots, schemes, deep thoughts all happen at night. For nighttime is the peaceful moment at which everyone simply sits down, relaxes, and let loose. Workers return to loved ones, children rest after a tiring day of play, and people reminisce about their beloved dearly departed.

Everything begins with the night.

~O~

Sebastian watched the sleeping earl, despite a niggling feeling that he wouldn't be needed tonight. Reliable as demon instincts might be, there were times when they failed as well. He saw no reason for Ciel to suddenly get over his nightmares; further proof was the picture and amulet still on his person.

"Ciel.. Ciel…" Sebastian murmured pityingly, gloved hand caressing the boy's cheek. His mouth was stretched into a small, sinister smile, as he contemplated how helpless and vulnerable his young master was. Here he was, such a pompous character, unable to sleep without sentimental aids.

_Weak._

And yet, somehow endearing.

Sebastian chuckled lightly at himself. Now, now, not long before the whimpers would start up. And then he'd get that warm feeling again. Yes, Sebastian had identified his cause of returns night after night. It was due to the warm feeling he got after each comforting gesture he made. If he caressed the Young Master's cheeks, feeling the Young Master snuggle into his palm, he felt warmth blossom within his chest. If he covered Ciel's hands with his own, he felt equally as warm, if not more. It was a most peculiar thing, emotions. Why? Sebastian wasn't quite sure, but he was pretty sure it was because that each simple act denounced Ciel's reputation, subsequently portraying Sebastian's increased power. That a demon Ciel claimed to see as no more than a mere pawn was able to elicit feelings of safety from him – it showed of his airs and how little they were worth.

Surely, then, that the warm feeling Sebastian got was simply that of a predator getting closer to his prey.

Oh, psychological games were his forte. He was surely right, though the feeling was a little different from past encounters. Meh, what did he know? It'd probably been too long a time that he'd been acquainted with this feeling, thus remembering it wrongly. Not a big deal.

Sebastian stood against the moonlight, shadow cast upon his young master's frame. There he waited, waited for the moment when his young master would once again require his help. He was sure it would come.

He remained waiting there 'til light first shone in the horizon.

~O~

Ciel yawned, not bothering to hide the amulet on his bed. He'd hurriedly stuffed the photograph into his cabinet when he thought Sebastian was busy with something else.

"Young Master, your tea."

"Darjeeling?"

"Yes, Young Master. It is a full flavoured blend of the finest Assam and South Indian teas, also known as Royal Tea."

"Hmm."

Sebastian, as he had the two previous mornings, hurriedly dressed Ciel. He did not want the return of the peculiar feelings that one morning, but they kept coming back nonetheless and Sebastian could do nothing but speed up the process.

As he was buttoning up the grey frock coat, Ciel suddenly spoke.

"Sebastian. How is George doing?"

Sebastian felt a tinge of annoyance. "Oh, George is healthy and well-fed as a pig. No need to worry, young master." Sebastian's voice was just the right level of monotonous, bordering on impolite but not quite.

Looking down at his butler's upturned face, Ciel found himself rather irritated. Such an obviously fake smile; was the demon mocking him?

"Mind your manners. I meant, dear Sebastian, how is George doing in terms of his _butler training duties_?"

"Very well, indeed. In fact, just this morning he managed to break two of the breakfast plates and one whole tea set."

Sebastian's snarky voice held an edge to it.

He swiftly finished the buttons, too busy keeping his anger in check to notice anything out of the ordinary. Raising himself to his feet, he wheeled the cart to the door, not bothering to look at his master.

Tilting his head slightly in a bored motion, he droned, "Shall we, Young Master? Breakfast will get cold."

Without waiting for a reply, he left the room, counting on his young master to follow.

~O~

Impudence. That's what it all was about, really. Ciel had hoped that Sebastian's high-and-mighty behavior would improve with George around, but it seemed to only have gotten worse. The demon's challenges had all along been implied in subtle looks or emphasis on words, but now it had escalated to outright snapping. For some reason, however, he didn't feel like pointing it out.

Poking viciously at a tart, Ciel looked around his dining room. What has his life amounted to, so far? He saw expensive draperies, famous paintings of scenery, imported ornaments from places he didn't give a damn about. Was this what he amounted to? Money in a soulless place? For a moment, he felt self-loathing for his lack of achievements. For a moment, he considered the ridiculous notion of becoming a do-gooder.

And then he came to his senses. He remembered his purpose in life once again; to kill his parents' murderers. Not to forge a life out for himself, certainly. The old him was dead; even if he considered this a second chance to redeem himself, he wouldn't be the same. The only purpose in his life right now was to subject his torturers to the same humiliation he had felt, only ten times worse. Death by a mere child; he wondered how such power-hungry beasts would feel? He imagined large, boisterous men cloaked in black, begging at his feet. Ankle deep in the grimiest sewer, face dirtied and caked with dried blood. Such a fall from grace; Ciel found himself smirking grimly. And what about the big boss, the mastermind? Obviously the kind of men he'd pictured earlier would not be cunning enough against the Phantomhives. He imagined a tall, lanky, attractive man. Sly of nature, egotistic by name. Long, impeccably neat hair flowing in soft rivulets, styled only by the most famous in all of England, and special designer clothes that had never touched the floor.

Oh yes. Ciel was looking forward to bring such perpetrators to justice. The _Phantomhive_ kind of justice.

A thought niggled at him. _So, then, what are you doing here, messing around with your demon butler?_ Ciel slammed his fork forcefully on the table, previous good mood gone. His conscience, or whatever it was, was right. He had no time to be lazing around, fun as it may be. Curling his fingers tightly around the gold fork, Ciel set about making the cogs in his mind turn.

~O~

"For me?"

"Yes, indeed." Sebastian purred, tone low and smug. In his hands he held a straw-woven basket, piled high with delicious looking oranges. He extended an arm towards George, lips curled in a wicked smile.

Confusion flashed in those grey eyes, before an inkling of suspicious recognition plagued his face.

"Is this, by any chance… Your _welcoming gift_?"

Sebastian was unhindered, and George for a second thought he saw a flickering tail and pointy cat ears along with a Chesire cat grin.

Wait. The grin was real.

"Of course. Please, accept it most graciously." With that, Sebastian disappeared.

Staring down at the surprisingly light basket in his hands, George's brows furrowed in confusion. As far as he could recall, this was a nearly ancient ritual: giving new butlers a welcoming gift. A long time ago, when butlers were first introduced, giving one oranges in a basket was a tradition of sorts. An empty basket meant that the butler was passing all of his responsibilities to the newbie; mostly when the previous butler was old and retiring. A half-full basket represented a halving of duties; mostly when the master had decided to engage another butler for one or another purpose. The tradition was old and nearly forgotten; George only knew it because he was such a bookworm.

A full basket, however…?

Did that mean that Sebastian did not welcome him at all?

…

The…

The _jerk._

George huffed, slamming the basket onto a nearby table. No matter. At least he had plenty of oranges to eat.

Turning back to the oranges he planned to store in his room, George received another shock. The oranges had.. _deflated_. Collapsed like a pack of cards into a pile of near-flawless orange peels, they formed a rather lovely pattern if not for the fact that George was simply too enraged to admire them.

Not only had the bastard given him a _full basket of oranges_, he'd given him a full basket of _empty oranges._

Ooooh, the _bastard!_

~O~

"My Lord, for today's dinner we have orange-flavoured crepes with orange sauce, orange biscuits dusted with orange flakes, orange-glazed green beans, orange cranberry stuffed turkey coated in aromatic orange gravy with orange orzo salad as a side-dressing, and the lovely chocolate orange supreme cheesecake for dessert. Since today was an especially happy day for me, my Lord, I have even included an alternative candied orange and orange soufflé dessert if the cake is not to your liking. Enjoy, my Lord."

The table was peppered with the various dishes, elegant porcelain plates gleaming underneath sumptuous looking food. Sebastian's eyes were curled into happy little slits, his little smirk of a grin shining in full force. Coincidentally, a rather annoyed George was scowling in the background, body stock-still and rigid as a chopstick.

Ciel decided he didn't want to know, and went back to his food.

..

A while later, Sebastian seemed to tilt his head slightly, before smiling lightly at Ceil. "My Lord, the mail is here. Shall I...?" Ciel waved impatiently towards the general direction of the door, eyes not once leaving his food. "Go. Fetch." Obediently, Sebastian left, and Ciel continued eating. The procedure seemed so practiced, so natural, that George could not help but stare bug-eyed at the two. They were so in sync with each other, despite the horrible past \George was sure lurked between the two.

It seemed as if even before George could've said the word 'mail', Sebastian was back. He held a silver tray in his hands, piled with few letters. A prominent one, obviously made with expensive, high quality paper (recognizable by the furry feel they seemed to have against your fingertips), lay atop the pile, begging for immediate attention. George scampered closer for a better look, curiosity getting the better of him. "My Lord, you might want to look at this." Sebastian said, polite as ever as he waited for Ciel to put down his knife and fork, and take the cream-coloured paper in his hands. Expected though it was, George felt a jolt of shock when he saw the red royal seal of the Queen. Sebastian placed the tray onto the dining table, taking back the envelope as he swiftly produced a letter opener. Ciel watched nonchalantly as he munched on an orange biscuit, Sebastian tearing the letter open and handing it to his lord. Ciel took the pristine paper with one hand, silently reading it. A slow frown formed on his face, and George worried for a moment before the young earl's face tilted back up, and the frown was replaced with a mischievous grin. He seemed to wink at George, though it could have been his imagination, before turning to Sebastian. George gleefully noted the slight frown that had crept its way onto the other butler's face, apprehensive as to Ciel's smile.

"Say, Sebastian," Ciel munched on his biscuit, swallowed and continued, "how much weight can you carry?" Sebastian's frown deepened, and he cast a cursory glance at George. However, at a cue that George seemed to miss, he answered, "Five adults and a child, your lordship, if I am to be on the move." George inhaled sharply, disbelief written across his face. Surely Lord Ciel would not stand for such plain untruths! To his surprise, however, Ciel's grin only widened. "Right then," he proclaimed, getting up from his chair, "Her Majesty has another mission for us, and I will be bringing both of you along. I trust you can handle the both of us should the need arise, yes, Sebastian?"

George was not the only one who snorted in disbelief, though for rather different reasons. Sebastian looked incredulously at his usually level-headed master, and wondered if Bard had slipped a little something into the food when he wasn't looking. "And how, My Lord, do you presume I do that?"

"George will carry me, and you can carry him! Brilliant, isn't it?" Ciel beamed, staring up at Sebastian. George looked confusedly on. "As you wish, My Lord." George fancied Sebastian scrunched his nose a bit, but his face was once more a smooth blank before he could be sure. He made a motion as if to sigh, but no sound escaped and Ciel didn't seem to have noticed.

~O~  
>"So apparently, it's been reported that someone has been kidnapping children, mutilating them, and then hanging their dead bodies outside seemingly random shops. Would you happen to know anything about these bodies, Undertaker?" The seemingly deaf man giggled, dragging a long fingernail across George's jaw. Said man sniffled a little cowardly, shuffling across and away from the mad man all while trying not to spill his beaker of tea. "I see you've gotten a new toy, Earll~" Undertaker's deafness seemed to strike again, as he ignored the Earl's second attempt at information. Frustrated, Ciel looked about ready to hurl something at the infuriating man before Sebastian stepped in. "If you please, sir-"<p>

"Sir, my lord is trying to speak. Please do not ignore him."  
>The little roomful of people seemed stunned into silence at the unexpected interruption - very rarely did someone dare to cut off Sebastian mid-speech.<p>

Animosity besieged them all, but George seemed not to notice as he shot Undertaker a hard stare. "Bought a little kitty to keep your dog company, have you?" Undertaker intoned, nose scrunched slightly. With a flick of his hand and a step away from the man dressed in white, he turned around to face Ciel. Sebastian's pinched face eased slightly. "Mah, Earl. What was it you wanted again?" Ciel sighed heavily, utterly unbemused at the spectacle. "I said, would you happen to know anything about the horribly mutilated bodies popping up recently? Hung up on seemingly chosen at random shop houses, people of all ages?" Undertaker seemed to think for a moment, before bursting into giggles fit more for a high school girl. "Oh young earl, have you forgotten my price? One laugh, drawn forth fro-" Ciel roughly cut Undertaker off, shaking his halo of teal hair. "Nevermind, Undertaker. I'm not in the mood to haggle with you, why don't we j-"

"Then why not just ask your talented butler?"

Ciel shot the man an enigmatic look, before placing his beaker of untouched tea back onto the coffin he was seated upon. He hopped off without his usual grace, and all the mischief seemed to leave him as he held up a hand for Sebastian. The man dutifully rushed forward to dress him in his cloak, George hardly even taking two steps. "Nevermind, Undertaker, nevermind. I'll ask someone else." The silver-haired man seemed to accept this fact with grace, before a hand roughly tore him away from Sebastian and flush against warm cloth. "I would ask what's wrong, dear Earl, but I'm afraid I'm not worthy enough." The sultry voice above paused a moment, before taking on a more emotionless tone, "Much to my disgrace, I cannot disclose much information, Earl. Look into the families of the shopowners, therein lies a clue." The warmth suddenly disappeared, and the cold draught of air rushing to take its place brought Ciel out of his daze. Before he could say anything, however, Undertaker said in a much cheerier tone - "Trala, Earl! Do remember to take care!" - and before he knew it they were standing in the streets, out of the warm confines of the shop.

"Is he... Is he always like that?" A rather shaky voice emerged from his right. George. "Ah, so all that bravado in there was merely a front." This was said with a healthy amount of dryness. No prizes for guessing who. Ciel would've been annoyed at their meaningless argument, had his mind not been miles away. "My lord..?"

"Huh? Wha?"

"We are outside Undertaker's shop, standing on the pavement, freez-"

"Yes yes Sebastian. No need to carry on. Fetch the coach; we're heading back to the manor."  
>Sebastian worried a moment at his lord's odd behaviour, but brushed it off as post-Undertaker trauma. The man had hugged Ciel to his front, after all. That had to have had some side effects.<br>"Yes, my lord."

~O~

Ciel stared at his document, the companies' statistics swimming before his eyes. He groaned, covering his head in his hands. He rubbed furiously at his head, in an attempt to dispel thoughts of a man that had been plaguing him since his return to the manor. What was wrong with him! It had been nearly two hours, and yet Ciel found himself unable to concentrate on anything, not even chess. While others found it boring, Ciel found playing against oneself unexpectedly stimulating for the brain. He sighed. Work was impossible while he was in this state. Nevermind, he had a backup plan whenever chess failed him.  
>He rung the servants' bell, and within seconds a knock could heard. "Come in!" Sebastian opened the door and entered the study. "Yes, my lord?" Ciel said nothing, merely staring at Sebastian with a glint in his one visible eye. Sebastian recognized that glint. He sighed, shaking his head lightly. "My lord, it's already four. You'll spoil your appetite for dinner." Ciel kept silent. "My lord..."<p>

Silence.

Sebastian lifted a gloved hand to his forehead, tilting his head to the heavens. "Earl Phantomhive, craving sweets and stubbornly refusing to listen to sane advice. Whatever could a mere butler do?"

"Do his job and get his lord something to eat."

Sebastian dropped his hand, giving the earl a stern stare.

"No."

"But I can't concentrate!"

Ciel seemed to be unaware of the fact that he was dangerously close to whining.

"Then maybe it would be more ethical to solve whatever it is causing this lack of  
>concentration."<p>

"It's.. It's just..."

"Hmm?"

Ciel flushed a little, pink painting his cheeks. He suddenly flopped onto his table, face hidden from prying - and unusually amused - eyes.

"... My lord?"

"Nothing! Fine, so you won't make me something sweet. Now get out! And don't forget that research on the families; I want them by tonight."

"But of course, my lord, but-"

"GO!"

With a world-weary sigh, Sebastian left.

~O~

Ciel was still face-first in his documents when Sebastian entered the study. His lips tilted into a ghost of a smile, and he padded silently across the room and set a silver plate next to the earl's head. He appeared to be asleep. Carefully tucking a stray lock of hair behind his lord's ear - just to make sure none touched the food less than fifteen centimetres away - Sebastian left the slumbering Ciel and the freshly baked chocolate fudge cake in peace.


	6. Chapter 6

**Yoz! I'm really happy with this chapter! XD Mainly because it was done within a month! Applause, please!**

**I'm kidding. I just felt really bad taking so long to update :/ Well, I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I did writing it! XD  
>Btw, didn't receive any suggestions for the new title. Guess it's staying that way until later.<strong>

**Oh, and remember! Length of chapter does not equal quality!...**

**/shot**

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><p>Sebastian was frowning. He found himself in a rather puzzling position, miles away from the mundane conundrum of the Phantomhive manor. The servants were no less irritating, god forbid, and his workload seemed to have even <em>increased<em> since George's arrival. The man was learning fast, however, much to a mix of Sebastian's relief and annoyance. His face, though, when Sebastian prepared that onslaught of orange-themed dishes, gave the black butler no end of pleasure. That aside, no, the problem - no, _situation_suited it better - currently confronting him was much more grave. To be honest, when he first struck the deal with Ciel Phantomhive, he hadn't thought it wholly through. He'd thought he could handle whatever the boy threw at him anyway, and in a way he was right. Any surprises had been pleasant, and overall non-too-difficult to handle.

This time, however, Sebastian seemed quite at a loss. It seemed his charge had fallen prey to human nature - age. To be even more honest, Sebastian hadn't even expected the child to live so long, and while he didn't quite regret the contract, he really did hate it at times like this. Because, really, what could a mere butler do when faced with... _This_?

That morning, like every other, he had entered his master's room. And, like every other morning, Ciel was fast asleep. Sebastian had let himself take a few moments' rest, smiling genially at nothing in general, before opening the curtains with a rather sadistic glee. That was the moment he sensed it.

The open curtains had let in a rush of wind, and the stuffy air had lifted and moved. A rather faint, but very _there_, smell of chlorine. His eyebrow lifted slightly, and he half-turned to look down his nose at where the smell was coming from.

His eyes travelled down his earl's body, sharp eyes taking in minute details; the every curvature of the boy's body, the delicate bones than held together the beautiful frame, the way the translucent over-shirt softly caressed his skin with every whisper of wind...

There. In between his earl's legs, and a bit coming from the bed itself.

Hurriedly closing the curtains, he was lucky the earl hadn't awoken, the devil crept closer. Lowering his nose, he sniffed once more, eyes focusing on the bedspread. White against white, it was nearly invisible, but Sebastian could see the faint outline of what looked like liquid. Combined with the fact that the smell permeated strongest from his young master's groin area, there could only be one conclusion...

Ciel had, rather inconveniently, had his first wet dream.

Of course, the demon could do nothing at that moment – he was already running a few seconds behind schedule, and he'd have questions to answer for his unusual tardiness. Questions he did not wish to answer.

Swishing apart the great curtains, using a minuscule bit of his power to make the wind just that littler bit colder, Sebastian made sure Ciel awoke. His young master grunted, rubbing his eyes slightly as he attempted to snuggle into the dark crevasse that existed between pillows. Sebastian was having none of that, however.

"Rise and shine, Young Master!"

With a jolt, Ciel sprang up, so cold he was nearly shivering. Surely, Sebastian had not dared to take away his bedcovers! The last time that happened, Sebastian was punished with an hour-long lecture on respect. The old man had rather enjoyed lecturing what he saw to be a young, incompetent, over-grown teenager with a wild streak, in the ways of the traditional butler. Professor Albix was a good man; nothing short of the best for Sebastian, after all. Ciel had dawdled the time away reading a book, with the safety of the whole length of the mansion between them.

Before Ciel could yell, "Do you want me to hire that old geezer again!", he realized that his covers were still on. Pity. He had rather enjoyed Sebastian's spit-covered face, and fancied he saw the butler's never-failing smile drooping just the tiniest bit.

Sebastian smirked behind his gloved hand. He saw the anger rise and disperse on his young master's face, quick as a blink, and wondered why he never thought of using his demon powers before. Cold air was effective in waking up slumbering, grouchy, authoritative young boys, it seemed.

They got dressed as usual, went to eat breakfast as usual, and now Ciel was in his library as usual and Sebastian was cleaning up his room _as usual._

Standing in the middle of his earl's room, door safely locked behind his back, Sebastian found himself doing a rather human thing; he scratched his head. In front of him was his master's bed - clean, of course, nothing short of an exemplary butler, - but that didn't mean Sebastian forgot the stains as fast as the water washed them away.

So... What to do? Sebastian decided to wait; Ciel hadn't acted all that differently that morning, but Sebastian couldn't be too sure. Besides, as sad as it was, the demon was Ciel's only parental figure. Who else could he go to for guidance? The boy would eventually have to come to him.

So satisfied, Sebastian left the room, mentally patting himself on the back.

~O~

George was already in the library when Sebastian arrived. Raising an eyebrow, Sebastian said nothing as he stared at the other man. George, who was balancing atop a ladder, seemed not to notice the other butler's presence as he read a book belonging to the young master. _The Black Feather_. Sebastian remembered that book; it had been extremely hard for him to find a replica when the young master ordered him to restore the mansion. He recalled the young master's unusually subdued face when Sebastian had nonchalantly told him, after elevenses, that that particular book was the only one he was unable to procure an exact copy of. He'd immediately regretted his words, for some unfathomable reason, but attributed it to the fact that it was a failure in some ways. He was also sure that it was for that same reason that, when Ciel remained speechless and immediately retired to his room, he had stolen the only other copy left in the world from an old man. The old man himself was contracted to an older demon, some friendship that they had, and that powerful demon had been the same reason why Sebastian hadn't killed the old man in the first place. Killing members of their kind was not looked down upon, nothing like that, but doing it for the sake of a human was heavily discouraged. That aside, he had 'borrowed' the copy when the duo had been on a trip overseas, and painstakingly copied it word for word into an empty book he had carved and made from scratch. He had then returned the book, not a trace of him to be left behind. His young master's face had been ecstatic, if only for a moment, and Sebastian felt that that moment had been the time when something changed between them; Ciel seemed to view him a bit better, and Sebastian had known what it felt like to be a real butler, and to really act in his master's interests. Not that he made an effort to be one, but he had his moments.

It was thus that Sebastian strode forward and without a word neatly plucked the black leather book out of George's hands. Disturbed, George was about to put the other man in his place when he realised he was on a ladder, and yet could see eye-to-eye with Sebastian. That meant...

"Cat got your tongue?" purred Sebastian, looking rather like a cat himself as he hung off the shelves by his hands and feet. "On second thought, no cat would ever stoop so low as to touch your filthy tongue." With a smile, Sebastian hopped and fell backward, landing gracefully on his own two feet.

"Wh- Ho- _How_ did you _do_that?" George stuttered out, trying in vain to keep the awe of out his voice. However, before Sebastian could reply, a cutting voice echoed throughout the large library; "Having fun, boys?"

They each guiltily turned around, facing piercing blue. The earl strode forward and sat in one of the open armchairs, lush velvet nearly enveloping him. His back was straight, and together with his skull staff in hand made a rather imposing picture. Sebastian immediately recognized this look; Ciel was ready for business, most likely as a result of the Queen's letter. He stood at attention, before bowing deeply. "My lord." George, however, didn't seem to have caught on, though he was suitably subdued. "My lord? Is anything the matter?" Sebastian watched with unconcealed mirth as a barely visible tic formed in Ciel's eye. To be so... _At ease_in Ciel's presence when he was in a serious mood was not the best thing to do; prideful beasts needed their cowering subordinates, after all.

Before he could comment, though, Ciel merely waved at George. "George, come off down that. You look ridiculous up there."

George nodded, refusing to blush with Sebastian there. He climbed down, and followed Sebastian's example as he bowed. "Now, get up, get up. Surely we are not so formal with each other that every serious meeting requires such grandeur." This was, obviously, for George's benefit as he noticeably relaxed. Stupid fool, Sebastian scoffed. That was Ciel's cue to listen up, as he'd learned rather painfully over the years of service. "As you all know, I received a letter from the Great Queen Victoria this morning, and subsequently went to visit the Undertaker. He revealed something of importance -" He paused as Sebastian whipped out a scroll and handed it to him, " - that all of the victimised shop owners had something in common." Ciel nodded imperceptibly at Sebastian, signalling that it was his turn now. He spoke in a clear voice, summarising the results of his research as Ciel read through the data on the scroll itself.

"After checking each and every household, it seems to me that these shopowners have dabbled a tad in art. Not all of them have shady dealings, though the majority do, but all of them or their family seem to have an affinity for perfection. Be it art or otherwise. These are the two things in common that the shops have, and I have further compilated a set of potential future victims, of which I have included in this scroll." Sebastian fished out another scroll from seemingly nowhere, and received an irritated look from Ciel for all his efforts. In a lower, more teasing tone, he cajoled, "Well, my Lord, if I'd included this information in the first scroll I'm afraid you might not have been able to read the tiny font required to squeeze it in!"

Ciel growled slightly, but was placated. Not more than half a second later, however, Ciel screeched and vaguely clawed at Sebastian's arm. "Sebastian! What is the meaning of this?" In the enraged earl's hand, clutched tightly, was a rather realistic sketch of Ciel Phantomhive in a rather provocative pose - naked. He was stretched across his bed, dripping wet presumably after a shower, and lying on his side with nothing but his eye-patch on as a smoulder stared out. Thankfully for the earl, his manly bits were covered by a rose-themed duvet, teasingly tangled between his legs.

"Oh dear, my apologies dear Earl, seems like I've handed you the wrong scroll!" Sebastian's eyes formed two happy little slits, as he unremorsefully reached to take back the poor scroll nearly torn to shreds in the scandalised boy's death-grip. Perhaps that was why, his eyes shut tight in mirth, he failed to stop the rapidly approaching hand. By the time he heard the sharp whistle in the air, it was too late - the earl's hand came in contact with his bare cheek with a sharp crack. His eyes had barely fluttered open in shock, before the wide doors of the study were suddenly flung open.

"Young master, young master! Lady Elizabeth is here!"

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><p><strong>Review, please! I want to reach 45 before I post the new chapter! Muahahaha.<strong>

**Just kidding. Reviews do make me really happy, though :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey! Sorry about the false alarm, made a major mistake for this chapter. But it's been resolved now, so be happy! :D Enjoy!**

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><p>"Cieeeeeeeeel!" Elizabeth pushed the stuttering maid aside, forgetting manners in her excitement. She bounced through the doorway, flinging her arms around the stock-still Ciel. She turned and nodded her head in apology to Mey Rin, arms still not relinquishing Ciel.<p>

Ciel stuttered something unintelligble, but before he could speak Elizabeth cut him off. "Ciel! Come, come and play with me. I haven't seen you in _ages_, you've been so busy! I know just the thing; the other day I was in town and saw this magnificent..."

Ciel tuned her out, desperate to get back to work and end his humiliation. Why him? In front of his butlers, too! Yet again, before he could take any action, a hand was placed on his shoulder and Elizabeth's. "My Lady, Mister Sebastian has kindly informed me that you're my young master's fiancé, and I'd very much like to properly introduce myself before your graciousness."

Elizabeth looked up from her practically nuzzling of Ciel's shoulder, large inquisitive eyes gazing innocuously at George. "O-Oh, sorry. Hi, how do you do?" Elizabeth let go of Ciel to properly face George, who had also let go of the earl and was currently kneeling on the floor, right hand curled around his waist in a standard bow. A bit over the top for someone like Elizabeth, Ciel thought, but decided it wasn't worth commenting on.

They went through the usual formalities, and by the time Elizabeth turned back around, pigtails flying, Ciel was already safely by Sebastian's side. "Elizabeth," Ciel ignored the way her face fell at the formal tone, "would you mind waiting in the drawing room for the moment? I have some business here to finish up." Elizabeth's mouth turned into a pouty little frown, and her eyes seemed to gain a glint of defiance. She was far from pleased, certainly, but obliged when Mey Rin made a move to escort her to the drawing room.

Ciel didn't even notice himself sigh, as he moved forward to fully close the doors. George beat him to it, however, and he can't say he wasn't greatful for the action. Turning, he once again faced Sebastian. Rubbing his temple, he commanded, "Right, you will explain that to me later, Sebastian. As for now, let's get this over with as quickly as possible."

Ciel quickly read over the newer, correct version of the scroll - not without a tinge of apprehension - and nodded once to reaffirm his suspicions. The second the words "perfection" and "art" had left Sebastian's mouth, this person had come to mind and he would've been curious as to why Sebastian had chosen not to include that man.

However, as much as Ciel liked to be proven right, he rather disliked the thought of visiting this man. They had a rather... Disturbing history together. Yet, this man was the most likely candidate, and it was his job to investigate this case. His head drooped a little with defeat, and he half-heartedly threw the scroll on the floor. His spirits lifted not the slightest even after seeing Sebastian scurry after it. Well, 'scurry' was perhaps the wrong word - more like catch it midair with grace and speed unbeknownst to human beings -, but Ciel couldn't bring himself to give a damn.

Sighing loudly, and tapping his foot against the floor for emphasis, Ciel announced, "At exactly three, after lunch, we leave the manor. We will be-"

"What about Lady Elizabeth, young master?" George incquired.

Ciel didn't bother to muffle his curse, much to George's shock. "You're right." Ciel said, "We leave _now_."

Command given, Earl Ciel strode out the door with quick steps, leaving behind a grinning butler and his aghast counterpart.

~O~

"Young Master, you never actually told us; just where exactly are we going?" In the carriage, Ciel frowned with distaste. Did butlers not have any manners in this day and age? Their job was to drive. Period. It was partly his fault, of course, he had spoilt the butler on purpose. However, it seemed now that it did not encourage Sebastian to step up his duties in the least; in fact, Ciel had found them arguing childishly over a simple matter more than once. Who got to serve tea, which tea the earl preferred, what dishes ought to be cooked for dinner, and the list simply went on and on. Ciel didn't feel flattered in the least, oh no. This behaviour over such trivalities was simply embarrassing and a disgrace. Yet, Ciel could not simply drop his elaborate act and story; he'd gone through all the trouble, he'd reap benefit at any cost.

"Viscount Druitt's, George!" Ciel called, plastering on a sickly smile as he looked out the carriage window. George nodded, smiling, and returned to his driving.

When Ciel pulled his head back in, he was unamused to find Sebastian smiling. "Something to say, butler?" He said, voice cutting. Sebastian merely smiled and kept quiet. Irritated, Ciel took to looking out the window.

After a moment, as they were passing through some countryside, Ciel spoke up. "Sebastian..."

Sebastian visibly perked up from whatever daydream he had been having. "Yes, Young Master?"

Eyes not once leaving the green trees whizzing by, Ciel tried to ignore the eyes that seemed to be burning a hole into him. "You know, I've read about... puberty, before, but not actually gone into an indepth investigation about it." Ciel winced at his awkward wording, but said no more.

Sebastian smirked. This was what he'd been waiting all morning for. "I do see your point, master."

There was a pause.

"Do you.. Do you require help, young master?"

Ciel squirmed. Damn that Sebastian, he knew he didn't know a damn thing about fucking puberty!

"Yes. Tell me all you know about it right now." Ciel's voice was sharp and commanding, and the effort to mask his uneasiness would have paid off had it not been Sebastian he was talking to.

"Well," the teasing voice seemed to drift and hang in the air, "When a young, human male boy reaches a certain age from 12 - 15, he will start to feel different from before. His voice will start to change, to become lower than before, and during this period his throat might emit strange, squeaking sounds."

There was a pause. Ciel made no comment.

"In addition, the boy will start to grow hair; short hairs, but longer than those on your arms and face. This hair will appear at your underarms, around your groin area, and I'm sure you know about beards. You don't have to worry on this front, young master, I've noticed it already." Ciel blushed lightly,and tilted his face more into the window.

Leaning backwards - he'd been slowly inching forward during his little lecture - Sebastian waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And then finally - "But Sebastian, what about those... Less permanent ones?"

"Oh? Like what?"

Ciel was blushing so furiously, the window felt cool against his flushed cheeks. And it wasn't even nearing the end of spring!

"Those.. that happen at night.. You know.."

Sebastian's smile creeped Ciel out, who had chanced a glance at his butler. "Why, young master, did you experience something of interest?"

Ciel spluttered, but he was only capable of incoherency. This was too much! He was sure Sebastian knew something; that little grin told no lies. He suddenly straightened in his seat, a large difference from his previous cower, and stared Sebastian dead in the eye. His expression was serious as well, and he opened his mouth to say something. A flash in his eye denoted a change of mind, however, and he turned it into a guileless smile. The last time Sebastian saw that smile, they were in a certain circus on a certain case.

"Oh, it's nothing, Sebastian. It's alright, I'll just ask a friend." Ciel kept smiling, eyes closed, but it slowly disappeared as he went back to staring out the window.

Sebastian was utterly dissatisfied with this turn of events; it was not going like he had envisioned before at all! Going out on a limb, he dared to ask, "But, my lord, you _have_no friends."

Ciel's gaze became sharp, pinpointing Sebastian. He held that gaze for a few seconds, and if Sebastian had been anyone else, he most probably would have shat his pants. Be it as it may, however, he merely waited patiently. Unexpectedly, again, Ciel smiled. That was twice in five minutes! Sebastian felt his demon senses go on alert.

"Then, butler, you're wrong."

~O~

They halted outside the Viscount's place. Ciel was albeit a bit nervous; he forgot for a moment that someone was supposed to open the door for him and hopped out of the carriage by himself. George threw Sebastian a look, but the other man only looked steadfastedly ahead.

The mansian they were in front of wasn't particularly huge; about three-quarters the size of the Phantomhive's, and the Phantomhives hadn't really splurged on their abode. The building was, however, adorned with the finest carvings and statues, with a large Adonis baring all on the front lawn. Ciel wrinkled his nose distastefully.

The white marble rose about four stories high, and balconies were placed in a two-by-two structure, the middle of the building occupied with carvings of fallen angels and battling Pegasuses. The marble itself, however, wasn't pure white; veins of dark-grey blood flowed just beneath the surface. Surrounded by tender-looking grass, roses of all colour dotted the place, backed by elegant willowy trees swaying in the slight breeze. It was well-sheltered from the sun, and at the moment the glowing orb was barely peeking over a faraway hill. Ciel wasn't sure what was behind it all, but he was willing to bet it was just as grand, if not more so, than the front. Standing in front of glimmering gold gates, looking at his butler ring a cherub's bow-and-arrow, Ciel thought-

"Yes, hello? Who's this?" A man dressed in a fancy black suit with white frills walked briskly from the mansion towards them, a thick french accent wrestling with his english. Ciel's own formidable butlers paled in comparison; both dressed in simple but well-cut suits of either all black or all white, they looked like the minions of the equally-balanced French footman.

"We are Earl Phantomhive's butlers, and you would do well to let us in."

The Frenchie was thoroughly put off by Sebastian's stand-offish attitude, but simple opened the gates to let them in. George was rather suprised at this slip-up of politeness, but Ciel wagered that Sebastian was still smarting from the proverbial rejection he'd been handed to by none other than yours truly. Without missing a beat, a smirk appeared on Ciel's face.

Led to the bronze double-doors of the mansion, a giant rose above above them, the fancy frenchie formerly introduced himself. His lips thin, barely turned down at the sides, he spoke, moustache quivering, "I am Viscount Druitt's butler, Alphonse, and I am very honoured to be the one bringing you to my lord. Earl, please."

With a single, strong push, the doors were flung open.

Ciel heard a rather notable gasp from his right; George. While he'd be sure to have a word with his butler later, Ciel could see why he'd been in such awe. The Viscount_ did_have some taste, afterall. Light beige marble pillars held up a great hall of tasteful art, wall-sized paintings scaling the rounded perimeter. Signatures and near flawless-art told of the high quality and finesse, as well as what was sure to be an extremely high amount of money put into play. The circular hall branched out into three doorways, one directly opposite them. From his position, he saw floor-to-ceiling windows in the little hallway from door to their current room, luscious velvety red curtains neatly curtailed at the sides. Sunlight streamed through, making the little corridor and beyond seem like a different world from the heavy art their current room seemed to encompass.

Alphonse scuttled off to the doorway directly opposite them, and returned shortly with the viscount. The flamboyant man was, as always, dressed in a frilly white suit, laces and chains aplenty, several rings adorning his finely manicured nails. He flew towards them in a hurry, face wide and smiling. His actions, however, seemed a little choppy...

"Earl! Oh Earl, my fine dear Earl, is there anything I can do for you?" The viscount enveloped Ciel in a warm hug, squeezing Ciel so tight he very nearly did not notice the viscount's trembling. Shocked, Ciel made no attempt to fight him off, and a glance upwards confirmed Alphonse's worried gaze. Slowly prying Druitt off him, seemingly one cell at a time, Ciel took a good look at the man. Finding something sticky in his hair, where the viscount's face had been, Ciel delicately ran his fingers down the strands. Holding them before his face, Ciel realized the sticky substance was none other than concealer. Without really thinking, Ciel carefully dragged his fingers along the bottom of the viscount's staring eyes. More concealer came off. Finally, Ciel wiped off all the concealer underneath an eye, revealing dark eyebags. It was at this moment the viscount seemed to awaken from whatever trance he'd been under.

"No! No no no no!" He jolted out of Ciel's hold, tripping over his own feet in his haste. He didn't seem to notice, however, but was caught by Alphonse in time. He buried his face in his hands, body slightly curled inwards, and began sobbing.

Ciel stood rooted to the ground, caught off-guard by the sudden turn of events. What had happened? What had turned the usually cheery man into this wreck of flesh and bone? Well, Ciel didn't plan on standing around pondering. Eyes and heart set, he turned immediately to Alphonse. "Bring him to his room, and lay him on his bed. Then, return immediately to me. George, you follow along."

Alphonse looked ready to object, but George sensed a shift in atmosphere and fortunately had the sense to shush the man up. Looping the viscount over his shoulders, refusing Alphonse's help, he got Alphonse to lead the way to the viscount's quarters. Technically, it was the viscount's butler's job to bring his master to his room, and by doing so it was considered as Druitt making use of his servants, but Ciel had better things to do. Didn't mean he didn't notice these little things, however.

Turning to Sebastian, he wasn't all too shocked to see that his butler wasn't there. Pffft, Sebastian. Always thinking he knew everything, Ciel's needs and wants.

"Thank you." Right on cue, Sebastian had arrived, tea in hand. Over the years, whenever something unexpected cropped up, Sebastian knew just the thing to help Ciel keep his cool. A lovely cup of his favourite brew. Ciel didn't question how he knew just the right time to fetch the tea, nor even where Sebastian got the tea, but he'd learnt to just appreciate things for what they were.

Taking a much-needed sip, his favourite Earl-Grey aroma drifting in the air, Ciel braced himself. From here on, there was nothing in the world but his case and him. None of Sebastian's satisfied smile at Ciel accepting the tea, none of the outside powerplays between his butlers and him, and none of keeping up any fraud appearances in front of George. Just him, his case, and his next interrogatee - Alphonse.

~O~

"Are you sure you're incapable of telling us anything, Mandy?"

"Yes. Not without my master's permission; I've told you that several times already, Earl."

Sebastian wanted to throttle the man; the nerve! How dare he treat Ciel with such nonchalance.

Ciel did not let that irritate him, however. He sighed, set down his cup of tea, and nonchalantly uncrossed his legs. Sharing a look with Sebastian, Ciel didn't bother to hide his 'smile' as he spoke to the straight-backed man. "Well then, we'll have to go straight to the victim, won't we?"

With a snap of his fingers, which were really more for effect that anything, Sebastian disappeared. He opened his mouth to question, but before any sound could be emitted, he was left staring open-mouthed at the Sebastian that had returned – with his arms full.

"W-what? Put him down! He needs to rest! You hear me?"

Alphonse leaped out of his chair, but to no one's surprise Sebastian was across the room in a dash. The fancy-schmancy butler was left as a loss for words again, bugged eyes staring at Ciel as if demanding explanation. Using the toe of his boot, Ciel idly drew circular patterns, little hairs on the red carpet standing and falling. He looked up from the rugged carpet, and the world seemed to fall away as he locked eyes with his butler. Words unspoken flew between them.

_You know what to do._

_Of course, my lord._

Looping an arm of Druitt's over his shoulder, Sebastian brought the still-sleeping man out into the corridor, disappearing into one of the seemingly endless rooms. Before long, as Ciel stared idly into his teacup, screams sounding remarkably like Druitt's drifted through the hallways, reaching the room's two occupants. Previously with his head buried in his hands, silent as a tombstone, Alphonse visibly tensed as his whole body sprung up into position. It reminded Ciel remarkably of a dog, a basset hound, and he wondered for a moment if dog blood ran in all butlers. His fingers clenched around his teacup for a moment as he laughed silently.

"What are you doing to him? What's he doing to him? Are you hurting him? Dammit, what is even going on?" Alphonse leapt out of his chair, hands reaching out to grab Ciel by his lapels, but a white gloved hand met him square in the face. Not a fist, but a palm, five finger digits threatening to jab him in the eyeballs.

"Now, now, not so quick, little butler. Why – "

Before he could carry on, unfortunately, Alphonse backed out of his hand and dashed into the corridor. He looked wildly around for a moment, before going to the nearest door and turning the knob violently. It was locked. "Dammit!" he cursed, banging it with all his might, before realising it was a joint room with the door next to it. He tried that, too, in vain. Eyes going wild, a sudden thought struck him. He ran to all the doors, turning the knob desperately, only to find them _all_ locked. "What have you done to him?"

Alphonse was freaking out big-time. Sebastian stood next to Ciel's chair, a smirk gracing his features. Smiling lightly, Ciel asked, "How'd it go? Any luck?"

A perfected frown crossed over Sebastian's features immediately, like a cloud covering up the sun. "No, unfortunately. I could gladly try again, however, young master."

"Very well. Oh, by the way, where's George?"

Sebastian only smiled smugly. "Making tea, of course."

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><p><strong>Edit: So I didn't change anything but this AN. Was reading back and feel really embarrassed about it, so now it's gone. Sorry ._."**


	8. Chapter 8

Sebastian looked blankly at the ground, tapping his knee with a long finger. His right ankle rested on the knee of his left, forming a perfect equilateral triangle as he thought. He was, once again, in the same room with the viscount, having received permission from his young master to continue his investigations. Chamber was in one of his mental monologues again, and Sebastian didn't feel like pulling him out of what had to be at least his twenty-fifth one. It was time for a different strategy – his previous 'torture' did not quite have the desired effect. No matter how hard he tried, the second he mentioned _that incident_, Chamber was as quiet as a dead child.

He stared at the pitiful lump rocking back and forth on the bed. Reaching a decision, he got up from his chair to approach the viscount. "Y-you're not going to tickle me again, are you?"

Sebastian did not even smile. No more friendly guy now; Ciel had said to go easy on Aleister, but though the tickling had made him scream and shout like a madman, it was no use when it came to extracting the information he needed. "S-sebastian?"

Sebastian, putting on a grim face, stood at the foot of the bed, staring down at Druitt. There was no chance of getting the information from Druitt without therapy, obviously, and they did not have the time for that. Therapy wasn't even a sure-fire way for their predicament. Although Sebastian did consider, for a brief moment, pretending to be one… There was a thought. Wonder how the Young Master would react to that?

Pushing aside his fantasies for the moment, Sebastian returned to the matter at hand. He supposed the only way was to get what he wanted was from that human, Alphonse. He paused but for a second. Sebastian smirked; he knew what to do.

"Chamber, what exactly is your relationship with Alphonse?"

The man visibly froze, face turning a shade whiter. "W-what are you saying? He's my butler!"

Sebastian opened his mouth for his next smart-arsed remark, but a gut instinct told him to hurry up. Indeed, his master would be quite impatient by now.

"Well, if so, then he is certainly nothing to you." Aleister made to interrupt, but a look from Sebastian shut him up soon enough. "You can always hire another one, and I'm sure such a disposable being is not worth crossing my master over. Well then."

Sebastian was at the door in one fluid movement, but paused just as Druitt shouted.

"No!"

The black butler extended his senses, and felt his master rise from his chair. Mission accomplished, that meant. Smug smile crossing his handsome features, his voice sent a chill down the usually-flamboyant viscount's spine; "Farewell then, Viscount."

And he left the room with a soft 'click' of the door.

~O~

"No!"

Viscount Druitt's shout echoed throughout the mansion, reaching a certain butler's ears.

Alphonse jumped out of his chair, very nearly sending it tumbling over. "What are you doing to him? What? Dear God, release him immediately! I demand it! Or I will have to -"

"Have to what?" Ciel sneered, upper lip curling in a way no child should know to do. "Don't forget, _man_, he is in my hands now. I'm sure you know what to do. Otherwise...

Well, let's just hope it never comes to that, shall we?"

Alphonse trembled, troubled eyes staring straight into clear, menacing blue. "Y-you... But a young child... So cruel, heartless..."

"Well? Shoot."

Alphonse thudded back down into the chair, hands in his hair as he looked defeatedly at the ground. His master would punish him for this, and he really did not want to betray his master's trust. But... If it was for Aleister's own good...

He sighed again, before reluctantly beginning his story.

"It all started on Monday, four days ago. We were walking in the woods, when we heard a ghostly voice in the trees. I, of course, went to check it out. However, there was no one and nothing suspicious, so I returned to my master's side. I found him crouched on the forest floor, head in arms, sobbing helplessly. He claimed his lover, whom I have not heard of nor seen before, had broken up with him. Tired of the secrecy, she said. There was nothing I could do, other than bring him back to the manor, and he's been behaving like this ever since. It's just heartbreak, really. Let him mourn in peace."

This was delivered in an almost-bored monotone, voice nearing disdain at the last few words. Alphonse gave both Earl and butler - who had somehow slunk in silently during their little duel - a bored look, slightly smug around the edges, as if saying _See? It's nothing. You've just wasted your time._

"I'm going to be blunt about this, butler," Ciel inhaled deeply, " One more lie and he's as dead as my dear aunt Angelina."

Sebastian noted that Ciel was quite, quite impatient. If there was one thing about the boy the demon was sure of, was that he liked to toy with his food. For him to so bluntly threaten someone to their face, someone who wasn't his own butler, was highly unusual. Hence, Sebastian concluded that Ciel was quite, quite impatient. And rightly so, too; they'd spent about three hours of their precious time gracing the unworthy viscount and his counterpart.

Well, at least that got a rise out of the man. Truth be told, Sebastian himself was bored. Bored bored bored bored. Bored out of his mind. Time to take some action.

He turned to a nearby potted plant, summoning some of his energy to turn it into a very life-like Aleister Chamber. Shape-shifting required a lot of energy, and it was made especially hard since he was trying to be quiet about it. Not to mention he was under contract. When under contract, and this was a part he quite hated, his energy was forcefully held back by the magic of the contract, keeping in store about eighty-percent of his energy. Why? So that were his dear master to encounter any difficulty, he would be able to fully utilise it to help said master. Unfortunately, quite a bit of that twenty percent was usually put forth for the preparatory introduction to the contract, in his case his restoration of the manor. His usual killing and agility used up next to none of his internal strength, luckily, but since demons had no such thing as 'rest' or 'sleep' in the restoration sense, they could not gain back energy unless they ate. And of course, being under contract, it meant he couldn't eat anything unless his master said otherwise or his master himself. What a bother. No wonder many demons strayed into free, cheap meals. Too bad for dear Sebastian, though. But desperate situations called for desperate measures, and Sebastian really didn't want to waste any more time here than he had to.

He tossed a fed-up look at the ceiling. Pretty, he wondered absently, but overdone. His master's simple but elegant taste was much more preferable, although it did not surface often. It was a pity he refused to redecorate the mansion – it would certainly impress whoever came to visit.

Alphonse flailed his arms for a bit. Incredibly flustered, he did not notice Sebastian's little tricks. Just as planned. The man really was _such_ an inferior butler – he amused himself wondering who was a greater failure; this feminine man or that detestable George.

Heehee. George. Sebastian allowed a mental giggle and a small smirk to creep upon his face. 'Making tea'. What a laugh! He was even more amused by his earl's lack of comment. After a moment, though, he mentally shook himself - enjoyment later, work now. Yes.

He masked the now-transformed potted plant with a haze that took the shape and colours of whatever he walked past. Unnoticed, he exited quietly, not bothering to close the door behind him. With a flick of his fingers, he unmasked the plant – now Aleister Number Two – and infused him with the spirit of a nearby ant. He chuckled. This was indeed his favorite part. It took a while before the slump body animated itself, and it took even longer for the sluggish ant to realize the predicament he was in. Predictably, it panicked, and while as an ant no one really noticed, it was quite a different kettle of fish when it – _he _– was nearly as tall as a door. Kicking and screaming, animalistic carnal noises crept out of his throat, sounding truly terrifying and sending a chill down even Sebastian's spine. He sensed the panic coming from inside the room – even his dear Earl's. He forgot what it was like to take on an animal – provoking the primal instincts in other animals; humans and demons included.

Bringing in the struggling man-ant, Sebastian scanned the shocked faces with silent amusement. Even his master looked surprised, his dignified manner not quite reaching his eyes. He appreciated this sight, more so when he realized his master's one good eye was slightly wider than usual, an irrational sort of fear tinging the corners of his blue eye. A glance was spared for Alphonse, but there was nothing of interest there – panic, fear, disbelief; the usual. Meh.

Sebastian smiled cheerfully, one hand holding Aleister Number Two by the collar and the other defending himself against the man-ant's jerky and sudden movements. The viscount really was quite strong. He walked towards his master and Alphonse, careful to keep his distance, and said, "Is there something you'd like to say, Alphonse?"

The poor man's eyes were bulging, mouth opening and closing like a dying fish's. How disgusting. He would never display such unrefined behavior in front of his own master. All the more proof of just how superior he was. He didn't even bother being smug about it.

Ciel soon managed to tear his eyes away from the flailing man his demon butler had brought in – _was that the real viscount?_ - and instead focused on their target. No matter what Sebastian had done, he trusted it was only for the good of their case. It didn't matter that it had probably been at the cost of poor Druitt's sanity. Really. He cleared his throat.

"Yes. Alphonse, I rather suggest you tell us the truth now, or I'll let Sebastian have his fun. He is a rather good butler, after all."

Alphonse shuddered, and whispered a short prayer under his breath. He had no choice now, these people meant business. And it was for his master's own good. What on _earth_ had they done to the viscount? It.. It… Everything was happening so suddenly, and Alphonse didn't quite know how to handle it. Things were falling out of his hands, fast, and although he really shouldn't, he felt some measure of relief creep into his heart at the fact that perhaps now, his hands could be washed clean of this matter, and carry on his life peacefully…

He hung his head in his hands, willing his ears to go deaf for a second so as not to hear his master's pained cries. They were really breaking his heart. And these people in front of him… Such a young boy… There were rumours, of course, but…. Alphonse sighed. It was none of his business, after all. All of this. Unclean.

He began his story – for real.

_He had been following his Master Druitt, on a walk in the forest the latter had insisted on going. "Alphonse, Alphonse, I've heard of something marvelous! David – remember that handsome gentleman we met on the road - was telling me the other day about a story that had been going around his servants. Apparently, deep in this very forest, several sightings of something mystical, magical, and altogether too beautiful have been found. Guess – nymphs! Yes, the very maidens of the carefree earth, the breathy scent of the softest flowers, with voices that would seduce any real man – actual nymphs! And we shall find one today, Alphonse, doubt me not."_

_Alphonse felt an unease settling over his heart. Something was telling him that this would not be a good idea, and he felt it his duty to say so._

"_My master, ar-"_

"_Shush, my little one." Druitt brought a single gloved finger to Alphonse's lips, before his eyes softened and his hand opened to stroke his butler's cheek. "Don't worry, you're my only one. This is purely for appreciative purposes – like art, you know?" His flippant smile returned, and the warmth on Alphonse's cheek disappeared. "Or – if it turns out to be not true, it would still be an adventure. The stirring of excitement in a young man's heart – surely you feel it, Alphonse? And surely it is a beautiful thing in itself!"_

_So saying, Druitt skipped forward, pausing every so often to appreciate a flower by the path or the bright colours of a native bird. Alphonse sighed, and hoped to God that the unease over his heart was just jealousy. He hated to think of himself so low and possessive over his master, but it was better than having his master actually hurt._

_Druitt suddenly turned sharply and headed off the beaten path. Venturing deep into the undergrowth, his expensive clothes caught and tore on broken twigs, but he was relentless. Alphonse also kept his comments to himself, knowing what his master was like. Nothing would stop him once he set his mind to it. A blessing or a curse, Alphonse hoped he'd never find out._

"_I think… I think I see her, Alphonse! Wait here, we shouldn't scare her with too many people. Oh, she's beautiful…"_

_Druitt held out a hand to stop Alphonse from advancing, moving ahead himself. Alphonse really didn't think it was a good idea, but he couldn't see anything with his master's back blocking his view. It was probably just some girl, the viscount would get bored and return with his trusty butler to the mansion and everything would be alright. Probably._

_He tried to peek after Druitt, suspecting a glade of some sort. But the viscount whipped his head around and shot him a vicious look, a no-nonsense look, and Alphonse shrank back. He could only sit and wait._

_And wait._

_And-_

"_Aeerghhhhh!"_

_Alphonse dashed ahead into the direction his master had went, feet springing over brambles and leaping over logs like he'd never done before. __**Aleister! **__His mind screamed, echoing with his master's shouts. He should've reached the glade by now, Druitt hadn't gone such a long way. But where was it? All he could see where trees, leaves, shrubbery and more trees._

_Panting, unable to run anymore, he finally came to a halting stop. Resting a palm on a nearby tree, he couldn't help but whimper a bit. Where the heck was his master? They should never have gone out, they should've stayed in the mansion, he should've grown a pair and followed his master to wherever they had gone…_

_He moved to kick the tree, overwhelmed with frustration. His foot met its target with a resounding thud, when suddenly his foot seemed to go __**through**__ the tree and he nearly slipped._

"_What the hell..?" He breathed._

_Before him, where there had only been trees and more trees, suddenly a path was revealed. He followed it, and it made a circle before leading him back where he came. Eventually, he neared his starting point – but instead of the trees he had dashed past, there was a glade. And in that glade-_

"_**Aleister!**__"_

_Alphonse tried to run into the glade, but something held him back. A man. A potentially dangerous man – he couldn't afford any impulsivity. This man was holding onto his master like he was a ragdoll, one arm up and one arm down, one leg up and one leg down._

"_Not too close, my dear, sweet one. Oh, so you're the man who's managed to hold down this fluttery butterfly, hmm? I would've expected more… finery, I suppose. You're rather plain." Alphonse couldn't see a face beneath the large hat, but that in itself coupled with the flowing gray hair was more than enough._

"_Undertaker! What business do you have with my master?"_

"_Master? Oh huehuehue, wasn't it just 'Aleister' seconds ago?" Undertaker dropped his hold on Druitt, leaving him to instead dangle from what seemed like strings tied to the tree. Druitt was unconscious, head lolling._

_Alphonse gritted his teeth. What had they done to Undertaker? Nothing, certainly nothing that would warrant this strange visit. What happened to the nymph? Had it all been a ploy?_

"_Please hand the Viscount back. I'm sure he'll pay you any ransom amount you want." He nearly pleaded._

"_Oh no no no, money is not what I want. What I want is him. Now leave, before I do something to him you'll regret. Huehuehuehue!"_

_Undertaker made a shooing motion to Alphonse at the same time his other hand took out a cleaver from his robes. He held the cleaver to Druitt's neck._

"_No, stop it! Please!" Alphonse backed away slowly, but couldn't help the desperation that crept into his voice. Shit, madmen like him lived on the desperation and helplessness of victims like him, he couldn't believe he had given in so easily!_

"_Butler, I'm warning yo-"_

"_My my, what do we have here? A sausage fest?"_

_A white and black blur flew down from seemingly nowhere, and in that split second he spoke, Druitt disappeared from the tree and into his arms._

"_I'm sorry, little boy, but I can't have you taking this man now. He's needed for something very urgent, something like a tea party. Ahahaha, go back home, butler-man!"_

_And just like that, the blur was gone, leaving both Alphonse and Undertaker to stare in shock._

_All Alphonse could think was… How had the mysterious stranger managed to keep his gigantic hat on?_

~O~

"So… So then Undertaker disappeared into the trees and I rushed home. Ale- The Viscount was in his bed, still unconscious, and when he woke up, he was like this. I… I don't really know what to do."

Alphonse, having finished his story, buried his head in his hands.

"N-Nothing I say or do will help, h-he won't t-tell me a-anything…"

"… Are you crying?" Ciel's deadpan voice broke the moment.

The sobs that broke the otherwise-silence spoke volumes. Strangely, after Sebastian had returned Druitt to his room, the screams from that end had stopped. Otherwise, Alphonse would never have been able to tell his story in peace.

Ciel rubbed his forehead warily. This was terrible. So the butler himself didn't even really know what was going on, and his explanation seemed mighty suspicious. Undertaker? What did he have to do with this? And from Alphonse's description of the mystery man, Ciel was beginning to have some questions…

"Sebastian, take the sobbing plebian to his room. Or out of here, wherever. We need to discuss something. And prepare George for our departure, from whatever god-forsaken place you've sent him to."

Sebastian himself wasn't feeling too peachy. Seeing a grown man cry was making him a little sick. What filth, that he now had to carry? Troublesome. But he of course did as asked.

* * *

><p><strong>So like, new chapter _ (wanted to do the right-facing carrots emoticon thing, but alas...)Are you guys even still in the fandom..?<strong>


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